Mother

Grief-stricken through night and day
On the shore like a dead bird I lay
The voice stuck like an arrow in the bark
The song no more sings the lark.

I miss you, I miss you, I miss you,
This is what I chant,
Just one wish I ask of you,
“Lord, Will you grant?”

Come, Hold my hand,
Walk me to your Land,
There, among the Angels, She lives, like a Dame,
Mother! After that day, Life has never been the same.

By Shilpa Shri