From her to her and her to me
A sown seed, now a tree
nurtured by her and her and me
growing untamed
oh its fruit, so sweet!
The roots held on
through the tempest and drouth
and kept holding on beneath
the ground
and the tree standing tall,
couldn’t see below
the very roots that succored it to grow
From her to her and her to me
the many sarees and the recipes
the everyday things she used and she,
the everyday things, their legacy;
the stories of lost selves, shedding as leaves do
memories like flowers,
blooming momentarily
Hers, hers, and mine
the same frown and the smile alike
and in times when it's just me
the roots still hold together that majestic tree
In the little poems hummed under the silvery moon
the leaves grow back again, and the flowers bloom
And oh the fruit of their labor,
so sweet
I bite into it and find me