It was a Monday morn,
Much ahead of schedule
With half closed eyes ,
With a quaint smile,,
With a loud cry,
I see my angel descend.
His smile still lingers,
Though with a gushing mischief,
His sharp wit still persists,
Though with an added incision,
I stand in expectation,
As I notice my angel’s growth..
His enthusiasm enlivens,
His determination deciphers
His authority affirms,
His boldness bolsters,
I head towards the goal,
As I espy my angel blossom.
Unruffled by misdemeanour,
Unscathed by adversities,
Untouched by frailties,
Unflinched by failures,
I clamber to the heights
As I conceive my angel’s triumph.
The youngest of my brood,
The pampered of all
The wittiest of the lot,
Spreads a cosy snug,
Wherever he be.
Memories go back,
Thoughts push forward,
I hear my little one’s call,
“Atha”
in full – throated ease.
His cry wakens me from the reverie
Thou art an adult in the offing,
Thou art a responsible man in stature,
Thou art an articulate entity,
Thou art a grand designate,
Yet you are my darling
My blessings embark ,
on the wings of poesy,
Fly across the mighty ocean,
In great speed and spirit,
To greet you,
As you rise up ,
on your birthday.
‘
Meenas Poems 