O Mother, there are a multitude of alphabets in my love for you!: A poem 

O Mother all those formative aeons of formation 

meant to outlast the continuum of everlasting 

I am just in the womb of wisdom; as much as I 

am out of it; to forge a battle for truth. I can tell you 

this presence in time has no substance, like an  

ocean that is invalidated by its illusion, like a moon  

that is hollow of its purported intuition; not  

materials of godliness. I have begotten much fabric of virtue 

from you, Mother. I am encapsulated by its timelessness. 

The rhapsody of its solidarity negates all the falsities 

that encumber humanity and me! I am no faint cry in the darkness! 

The profundity of your motherhood of my soul 

begins with a mere bugle call, but bursts into an  

explosion of universal sound! Those that don’t hear it, 

are unfortunate! I live with you, in your unspoken dreams 

for me. They are the multitudinal alphabets of my love for you, in reciprocation! 

We are that embodiment of that universal sustenance 

like as if you are always rooting for my victory 

against a sea that roars against me. I am just the terra firma, Mother 

that you imagine to make me. I did not need to learn  

every iota of the wisdom that we share. It was just ingrained in me!