” From her womb to her arms, from her arms to her hand, to far away and rest with her, my mother”
Memorable it was, the day I was born,
when my birth was announced with a conch horn.
Mother, father, Uncles and Aunts all surrounded,
saying my cry was beautifully sounded.
I could see myself roaming in their hands,
struggling to hold me, leaving their errands.
Trying to find some humor in their faces,
while my features scored some praises.
Then, I finally reach my mother,
as my pain made her bother.
That was when I was feeling like home,
loved and protected in a caring dome.