tales of Suchita

Little one, little one
Can I tell you how
Proud I am to be your mumma?
The day I came to know you were
In me, was the day I knew
I had to take care of myself
So I may have the privilege
Of seeing you grow.

Little one, little one
Can I tell you about
The world you’ll be entering?
It has miraculous rainbows
Sticky heat and cooling winters.
Majestic trees to rest under
And wide fields to run through.

Little one, little one
I must tell you about
The family eagerly waiting to meet you
Grandparents with their child-like glee
Aunts and uncles fighting over who gets to hold you first
Your bade bhaiya whose ear is always at my belly wanting to hear you move
Papa who has been decorating a room for you so you have a place of your own.
And there’s me, dreaming about what gifts you’ll bring.

Little one, little one
I held you in my arms only for an hour
Your bhaiya didn’t even get to hold you
And papa is convinced you were born just to feel our awe and love
Before that precious life perished.
The doctors said you were born wrong
And died because of a weak heart
But little one that weak heart gave us so much love!

Little one, little one
I cannot write anymore
For you took my words with you
So I hope this ode will suffice to tell you
How much you were cherished while you were here
May you receive the same celebration
Wherever the wind takes you next
And you find calmer shores to anchor in.

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For Letter O, written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z