You are like the mighty sea-shore unmoved by the sight of the thousand and one ripples breaking each minute as the lives of men that shatter on the life’s shore.
I am like a brook hesitant to sing; yet, which can’t restrain itself; hesitant to rush to the sea and embrace its best the sea minds not the small brook yet could not conquer the yearning to join the mighty sea.
You are the Mother who forgives the child’s mischief with a loving heart and eager to embrace him again whenever he returns back from his wanderings.
I am like the mischievous child who, fearing Mother’s wrath roams over the streets of the city in the dark without a purpose with the wish to return to home and on to Mother’s lap squeezing the breast, conscience saying that Mother forgives yet the mind inventing various scenes and playing them before the fear-filled spectator the tarnished self.
You are like the Sunbeam kissing the dew drop on the blade of grass and filling the mighty river.
I am like the small violet fearing that I am too small to offer myself before Thee knowing not that Thy greatness is in accepting smallness.
You are like the tempest that breaks through the night bending the huge trees standing proudly amidst humble groves as if
destroying that crush the soul.
I am the child fearing the tempest yet loving it. You are a mystery
I am a seeker of the mystery Yet,
Thy mystery lies in me, for, where can a Mother hide her proud secret except in her son’s bosom.
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