The Womb – Poems on Mother , Father , Children , Parenthood – Volume 2 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

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41. MOTHER & THE ARTIST.

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every unfurling instant

of iridescently inscrutable existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every unfurling instant

of invincibly coalescing existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling instant

of robustly blessed existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling instant of victoriously effulgent existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every unfurling minute of  oignantly charismatic existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling instant of endlessly bestowing existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling instant

of Omnipresently benevolent existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant of limitlessly fructifying existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every unfurling instant

of  boundlessly splendid existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms

into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,

 

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling instant of amiably melanging existence,

 

Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial

remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist.