Kuma Raj Subedi
My mother is a nymph
With bright lit up face,
Descended to lift up
Her round face-
Big enough to hold skies and vale’s
Which I see my nation-
Her wrinkles demarcate the boundaries
Scars-the sacrifices of martyrs
Small nose stud,
Yet magnanimous like herself in nature
Shines the culture .
Sweat beads rundown her forehead
Diminish the volumes
Of Karnali and Narayani
When she toils in her field
In scorching summer,
Sitting on a mound, I observe
She throws her winks
Smiling I gaze and gaze
Until I see deep seas and mountains.
Both get fatigued as the sun goes down
When I sit on her lap
She sighs
As gently as the evening breeze
Stroking my hair
Energizing my being
Smiles again when I face her up
Hiding the grief
As if she did not toil.
Blinding beauty of bold countenance
No judge at pageant could judge
Let alone the walks
When trudge down the green fields
Curly hair strands
Fanning her face
Attract me more
To take a deep look inside
Losing myself in her
Yes,
My mother’s face is
My safe heaven
Where seasons dance playfully
And so do I.
[Mr. Subedi, a poet and blogger, is an ESL lecturer at TafeSA South Australia.]