A Mother Learns
4 Haiku
- gossamer touch,
mother strokes her newborn–
feathered beginnings
- young buds awaken
sleepy petals shake off dew
silver mist of dawn
- roots grow deep
where we plant seeds of love
becoming evergreens
- each arm a strong branch
holds up against mighty storms–
a mother’s instinct
© Neetu Malik
Some of Neetu’s Books
-
I drop pebbles slowly
watch them fall
in a shallow stream -
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun -
Walk me through
your caveshow me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom. -
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe -
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
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