The holding of young
Nisha your daughter
Is like embracing

A wonderful dream
In a summer’s night;
The smell of her is

Like scented blossoms,
The eyes of her like
Small diamonds in a

Sea of creamy milk.
The feeling of her cheek
Against yours warms you,

Reminds you of your
Mother’s touches, your
Mother’s embraces,

The softness, the warmth
Of love. Time moves you
On, the hands of the

Clock go around and
Around, your mother
Is no more, the fond

Memory of her holds
Fast in your mind, your
Father sits alone

Now, his eyes always
On the door as he
Awaits her return,

Listening for her
Footsteps in the house.
The holding of young

Nisha in your arms
Is a reminder
Of the then and now,

Of the memory
Of your mother and
The moment of warmth

Now, the aliveness,
The being here, the
Eyes close, there is the
Smile and the lone tear.