Take me into the arms of my loving mother

 Take me into the arms of my loving mother

Take me into the arms of my loving mother,
for even before I complete the phrase,
she is there- standing miles away,
carrying me in her,
as though I have been etched into her mind
before time.

Take me into her arms,
for that’s where I first learnt to see the world from.

Every step and every action has an origin;
she gave the meanings for those origins,
through which I have built upon,
learnt to adapt,
and learnt to view the world.

Even when she is miles away
from what I think or what I do,
she comes to my side
and learns to stay.

For if time had been kind to her,
she would have had the time
to figure out and pursue what she truly yearns for.
And since it wasn’t in her favour,
she pursues the idea of passion
vicariously through her dear child.

My dreams became our dreams.

She sends me off with eyes
that lit up the sky
as she ties a ribbon in my hair.

Every obstacle big or small
is dealt with
before I even know.

For when everything,
including what I call love,
wears me down,
she sits there
not to pull me up,
but to provide the kind of warmth
my tears couldn’t.

The essence of nature she carries with her:
selfless when it comes to her,
but selfish when it comes to
protecting her child.

Take me into the arms of my loving mother,
for she tries to understand
without asking to be understood.

And even before I gather all the words
to ask her this phrase,
I would be in her embrace.