Nikhil Parekh - Indian Poet
When the golden eagle laid her eggs in pallid interiors of the jail prison,
in a pathetic ambience of torn spider web and wild rat,
the inmates wailing their woes at discordant tunes,
the obdurate periphery of snow white shells simply refrained from hatching,
the fledglings suffocated to death in the rudimentary
ocean of yolk and blood.
the gaudily striped magpie built her nest of raw twigs and grass,
nestling precariously on tall precipice of the mountain,
in which she delivered a festoon of small yellow eggs,
there suddenly came torrential rain pelting down,
the sky camouflaged with flashes of cold crimson red,
her precious pearls of palpable silver plummeted down the valley,
diffusing into infinite splinters after colliding with a chain of rock.
the long legged ostrich laid her king sized egg in soggy fields of paddy,
nurturing them with loads of compassion and motherly warmth,
slept in a tranquil bliss all throughout the monsoon night,
she wept in inconsolable grief, as first rays of dawn filtered past her eyes,
the babies were no longer hers, as they now lay safely impregnated,
within the slimy intestines of the slithering reptile.
the above mentioned were rare cases of callous mothers,
the premonitions i held for my mother were simply astounding,
she hailed from a godly pedigree of mammalian mothers,
guarded me against evil all night and blistering day,
caressed me in her arms yielding to my faint cries,
suckled me with milk, reinforcing my tender bones,
left me to wander on the soil of parasitic earth,
after i acquired a mountain of maturity blended with the spirit to live.
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Mothers
Mothers
