Reflections

It's been a long, long time since I last posted. I’ve been a little busy and more than a little lazy. ;) Anyway, this is what I wrote last week..


A moving picture the waters lent.
Mind in the past; eyes on the present.
The face that looks back at him quails.
Years ago, a ship stretched her sails.

Little did her men know
About the stowaway below.
He was holding back tears
While fighting his fears.

A blessing. A kiss on his head.
‘I love you. Be brave,’ she had said. He’d never become a slave like her.
‘Mother,’ was the eight-year-old’s whisper.

His life sculpted by what he’d heard
In the darkness, those whispered words.
He would, after decades of being brave,
Meet the reason he was saved.

He moves away from the water’s edge,
Leaves his favorite ledge,
To see someone he barely knew
But should’ve known all his life…She was new.

To meet his mother, he’s on his way.
Today’s not just any other day.
The chocolate-coloured skin matches his
As he puts her ring to his lips.

- Arya


This poem wouldn’t have been written if a friend of mine hadn’t given me the prompt ‘Reflection’. Thank you! Straight away, a picture of a man staring at his image and thinking about his past filled my head. That is what this poem is about. A man returns to his mother. She had sent him away to save him and now, he is going to meet her. It is his turn to save her. But, he is not alone. :)

Arya

A poet - A bookworm, definitely, a bookworm - A photographer - A simple person who loves music, making craft-y things - haunted by nightmares starring stairs without railings, spiders, snakes.

India