Poetry from Jernail S. Anand

South Asian older man with a burgundy turban and coat and red tie and white collared shirt standing in front of a red couch holding an open book.

THE MOTHER SUPERIOR 

(An Ode to Most Kind Mother Earth) 

When supports of the world fail, 

And I feel lonely 

And helpless, 

I fall upon my Lord

To whom I address my woes

He dresses my wounds 

And I go to sleep contented.

But it is not always so.

Quite often, 

When gods fail to address my issues

When pain keeps dripping like blood 

And when gods are silent 

And his men too 

I know still I have some one to go.

In the world a son who fails 

Rushes into the lap of his mother

And cries his grief out 

Has the mother ever asked him

Wait, let me think a bit?

Never. 

A mother never disappoints.

But a mother is a timed entity

Cannot be with you 

Always to succour your woes 

But pains, hurts and insults 

Are the staple diet 

On which we humans have to survive 

In this desperate situation 

When neither God is around 

Nor mother 

And you feel 

Enough is enough

There is a Mother Superior 

Who opens her unquestioning arms for us.

(*Mother superior is the Earth that receives all back ….without any questions)

….

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