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| Toolika Rani |
The Brooding Mother
She looked, forlorn,
At the silent swing
And the dusky dawn
Staring at the vacant lawn
Sans the springing of her fawns
What's a place without its beings?
A question bouncing off the closed iron doors.
Skeletons galore!
But would she give up the hope?
Isn't she the central figure,
The planet shaping the ring's sphere,
The magical womb of all creation
The ever-regenerative mother?
True, her clan has all migrated to pastures greener
A void for a while has been the only companion of her.
Life anew she will have to bring from her own plasma,
What a charisma!
Wait a while to see,
To see the trees swinging in the breeze
And birds forming nests to lay their eggs
The chirping of the young there's going to be,
Certainly!
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