The morning I wake
go to the kitchen
my eyes still sleepy.
I tell myself
having no school
going kids,
Why I am in a hurry?
I keep going
‘through the chore.
unmindful of the necessity,
a practice for long
dies hard.
Right now in the ripe age
gathering my wits
I do my work,
one being cooking,
the other supervision,
another more the accounts.
Do I do justice to all?
Little I know, but
do with attention.
I recall the words.
the mind in itself
makes the heave of hell
hell of heaven.
it is the mindset
that does a lot more,
than the age.
Meenas Poems 