The young mind and
The young heart in the making
Of a life - a green plant planned
With kindred tree by Him
Into the earthiness of bond and growth
Into a mother out to a friend
Who is farther and a father
But not far from her
The phone brings
When rings, melodies of closeness
And runs a girl
Leaving her bath, books or play;
The water, pencil, or the wheel of the cycle
Rolls down dashing
Almost against a mishap
She has a perfect guess at the caller
And the call and gestures by her hand
To give the phone- the restless, impatient
Need to share forces her to dare
For a dire need of a talk
"Now you come six months have passed
Finish your work soon
You come, the first day you take rest
And the next day we will go to the park"
And so on but before everything the food and
Health and what he takes and should not take,
Are the words of a loving soul;
Enquiry and instruction
Remind him of a mother ----
His doting and dead mother
A three- year old, wide-eyed dear deer
While nibbling at the yielding leaves of life
Told all before he landed from abroad
On his native land, a few years ago
"My son will come today
Women of the neighborhood
Wondrously asked,
"Who is you son, my dear?"
"My dad is my son,
He will come today"—
And his departed mother
Got reincarnated
Through the daughter's
Prophetic words—