My mother
My world
My nurturer pure
Nestled in anguish unsure
My mother
Practicality is shamed by your compassion,
Morality is blamed for your delicate action
Oh sister
Brothers your embrace seeks
Sons of Adam your faith in her is weak
Tainted she seems by your desires
She has made you a spark of hope
In this fueled funeral pyre.
Oh daughter
Your presence an eternal gift
Your decadence your illusion
Just watch your drift
My mother
Are words reflecting your honor
Your hopeful eyes keep me alive
As does the sun to the expecting farmer.
HAPPY MOTHERS DAY
copyright harris chughtai 2009