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

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45. SOLELY AN IMMORTAL MOTHER 

 

Some called her a tantalizing seductress; philandering uninhibitedly through the inscrutably rustling forests,

Some called her an angel having just descended from the sky; bountifully pacifying even the most traumatically agonized senses; with the stupendous charisma in

her voice,

Some called her a poignantly tangy wave; profusely enlightening the gruesomely pallid atmosphere around; with the incredulous euphoria in her ravishing stride,

Some called her an unfathomably enigmatic wind; that mystically tingled countless of impoverished souls; in the heavenly swirl of her compassionately diffusing breath,

But for her baby; she was solely an immortal mother; feeding it with celestial granaries of impeccable milk; and loads of overwhelmingly silken warmth.

 

Some called her a gloriously alluring pack of metamorphosing cards; enthusing boundless with the magic in her triumphant smile,

Some called her an insurmountably nubile vixen; voraciously drowning even the most lecherously monotonous; in an untamed thunderbolt of never ending raw desire,

Some called her a fabulously evading mirage; captivating even the most insensitively alien; in the ingratiating aroma that lingered incomprehensibly around each of her vivacious senses,

Some called her an unsurpassable carpet of marvelously scarlet roses; profoundly illuminating every dwindling path that she tread on; with the philanthropic divinity enshrouding her immaculate conscience,

But for her baby; she was solely an immortal mother; cuddling its tuft of innocuously heavenly hair indefatigably throughout the day; sequestering it from the even most infinitesimal of evil every moment of the disastrously horrendous night.

 

Some called her an unparalleled magician; metamorphosing every shattered heart that she caressed; into an enthralling paradise which kissed the realms of eternity,

Some called her an irrefutably bestowing fairy Goddess; fulfilling every wish of the despicably shivering and miserably penurious,

Some called her an exuberantly swimming mermaid; deluging the invidiously pathetic gloom around; with her unbelievably enamoring charisma and tinkling footsteps,

Some called her a panacea for even the most devastatingly debilitated disease; impregnably finding reprieve under nothing else on this planet; but

her magnanimously showering palms,

But for her baby; she was solely an immortal mother; sacrificing everything in her life; to witness it eternally blossom into the most invincibly unflinching entity alive.

 

Some called her a fantasy come true for all births; tickling the most inner most dormitories of the ludicrously bedraggled mind; with optimistic hope and intrepidly soaring adventure,

 

Some called her a neverending heartthrob; royally making them feel the most opulent organisms ever alive; as they perpetually bonded with her flamboyantly pulsating festoon of rhythmic beats,

Some called her a gorgeously blissful experience; rejuvenating their obsoletely remorseful blood; with the unconquerable exhilaration of life,

Some called her reflection that triggered fathomless whirlpools of insatiable yearning; coining a whole new chapter of mesmerizing existence,

But for her baby; she was solely an immortal mother; keeping it incessantly close to her womb; bequeathing upon it all the tenacity in this world to survive; even after she veritably died.