My mother always told me,
“Be good, be kind”
Before anything else, be good.
In a world so fierce and harsh
I don’t believe I ever understood
Was there a place for her words?
A woman so tender, so mild I thought
Never realising that when tears shed from her eyes
It was hurricanes she was taming.
Beating, surging in her veins
These were never words she would need to say
She was strength, she was patience;
She was balance.
I grew up with more opinions than thoughts
More thoughts than words
And more words than most
Somehow still believing I wasn’t doing enough.
Trying forever to find a place,
One that belonged to me,
That I belonged to
In the ocean of questions
For every sea of confusions
There was a shore.
The sure shore that stood
Unmoving, unwavering, unchanging.
A calm glow at the end of every tunnel
A guiding light that never called itself out,
But just stood there, waiting for me to come home.
I watch my mother today,
Her grace and poise in every interaction
Of her with the world
With the old, the young, the living and the gone
A quiet song she shares, within, without
Her manifesto she bears
More a whisper than a shout
“Be good. Be kind”