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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1697041
by jaya
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1697041
Very few can get out of the dead weight of past.
Mountain of Memories


Anyone else frail and fettered,
would have been buried under
the looming mountain of memories.
Not she, being made of superior stuff.

A ripe old lady, still beautiful and bright
and an incredible challenge for the young
in sense, sociability, in being human to the core.
Lucky am I for being in proximity

with her, hoping to learn how to maneuver
odds to my advantage, the art of getting the best
of life through fair means and enjoy the gifts
without complaint, with gratitude, contentment.

She finds no time for moping around, for her days
are filled, listening, guiding, offering solace, if she can.
Her dynamism and enthusiastic participation in the
carnival of life fills me with pride, wonder and joy.

This lady, let me tell you, is none other
than my very own loving, graceful mother.



First Place honor in the contest.
© Copyright 2010 jaya (vindhya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1697041