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The first person I met,
Right there to comfort me
The very first time I was upset.
And was the very first sight I could see.
She can be a hero, just to protect me.
She can be a mentor, just to guide me.
She can be a doc, only to heal me.
She taught me talk, and to read a clock.
The very first hands I ever held,
Were the dainty little, soft palms of hers.
The sweet nightingale’s cradle song,
Just like a cozy blanket, put me to sleep
With sweet dreams so long,
And brought an end to all my weep.

She, my very first of all companions,
Taught me to fight against my fears,
Ensured I was safe under her soft pinions.
But she told me ponder without tears-
I shan’t be there with you always.
You are to stand on your own
You shall fall, and you will get up again.
My child, you ought to know,
Even in my absence, you’ll never be alone,
Since I’ll answer all of your ‘hello’ “.

Then I realise,
I am to spread my own wings,
No matter how despise,
And if it stings,
I have one person to count on,
Even if she’s a thousand mile away,
Her shoulders are always present for me to cry upon.

With simple words, I cannot repay,
Her unforgettable love
And memorable compassion.
And I shall always remember that-
“I was made in her,
And she was created for me.
She is one of God’s work of art
Which was made because,
he couldn’t be everywhere all the time.

By Ardra Binoth Lonen

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