Across The Bridge- Mother’s Day Special

Across the bridge when I was standing,

Poking, crying and spacing.

She put her soft arms and hands,

To put me where I place my stand.


Jumped and I was in the sky,

There I flapped my wings to fly.

There, the endless clouds my way,

The bed of heaven is my stay.


Time to return back to earth,

The clouds Showering water from heaven.

I was in an instance, in a mistake,

It was my mother who made me awake.


I was under her shady oaks,

The leaves were frozen with ice.

Like the five fingers make multiple shades,

That’s me, my mother has made.


When I was one wayworn,

And the pages of my life were torn.

She made me stand on my foot,

And made me the one the way I look,

And made me the one the way I look.

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Yetesh Sharma