My Mother’s lustre…: A poem 

My mother’s lustre was in her simple wisdom, 

much capability to get the things done without much ado 

Her nous was wrapped like a curved arc 

around her home, her family, her duty 

There was never much distraction to take her away from it 

Sometimes, I think a little hedonism would do her good 

But who would suggest, when she always had a task at hand?

And in my reflection, she had a profundity 

to understand existentialism in the bigger picture of giving and selflessness 

We had a lot to learn from her, she was like picture books 

that didn’t talk but illustrated. Did she ever call fate cruel, 

that she lost her father when she was just six, 

and had to give up school to work in the fields? 

Simplicity is in accepting duty as purpose, and letting love 

assemble in that quietness. Many words can be spoken, but can they 

express the definiteness of action. I am alone in the memory 

of thoughts that taught me immense things in life. A belief 

that there can’t be much victory in a sacrifice, 

but that there is still a triumph of soul. And I know, she is still at duty 

never tiring, as she always was, doing it for us all in the afterlife!