A  STICK IN TIME MAY  SAVE A LIFE

 

             




 

 

 

 

Love has no definitions nor has any boundaries, truly so,
From where do these hormones flow in endless streams
Exhibiting in various modes, awesome  from the word go,
Maternal love tops the list , reverberating oft its beams .

This mother, seventy plus, sincere and true to the word,
Has a son, fatherless, full four decades since his demise ,
The boy of ten, all was her sole treasure and pleasure,
Gave him all  that her measly pension would appease.

Dutiful till he got engaged in love, now left her in cold,
His visits now far and few, sans love over a benign face
She was left uncared and grief -struck, lonely, yet bold,
Love is blind so it was, she was craving for senile peace.

Mounting pressure from within and out, he was estranged,
The worst  decision he took, taking her for an outing in forest,
The mother sensed the inevitable, yet silent and bold instead.
She had her bag filled with small sticks of wood ,nothing else.

As they trekked the  forest, she dropped the sticks one by one,
Son was watching the act, didn’t grumble till the destined site.
Was leaving her to the feast for the wild, when she set her tone.
Knowing his intentions, advised him to track the path of sticks.

‘’Thy return is  vital’’ my son, not mine, came  her bold advice,
Maternal love at its zenith, her son was dumbfounded in awe.
Sin taking its toll, was  in irresistible in tears and in  precipice.
She blessed him and left, but he plead for a pardon and won.