Mother

By Divya G Prasad

At the backdrop of a birthing centre.

Two hearts beat as one. 

I hear her cry, only growing louder.

First of the many I am going to hear in future.

I know it pains, I want to comfort her.

Instead, she comforts, it's going to be worth.

I come out so tiny, she extends her palms.

Placed on her, she receives me as gift of God.

As we finally meet, happy tears bond us.

I get her first blessed kiss.

I sip the first milk of her heart.

I am born to her. 

But she tells, I birthed her. 

As a mother. 

By Divya G Prasad