Hail To Thee , My Beloved Mother !

Hail To Thee , My Beloved Mother  ! prose poem

Hail To Thee , My Beloved Mother  ! prose poemUploaded by Dr.Indu Nautiyal


She is a Mother
Yes , She is . By all definitions .
For she has given us birth
Nurtured and brought up
And enabled us to live this beautiful life !

Though invisible , sans flesh and blood
She is yet an immortal spirit
Conceived in minds and hearts
Deep down .

A unique entity in herself
To be felt , adored and glorified
She is known as the land of birth
And rightly called the Motherland !

The proud mother of millions of children
Of varied merits and mindsets
Hailing from different social backgrounds
With diverse faiths and cultural upbringing

There are people with seasoned thinking
As also immature and lacking in reason
Adamant at raising voices of dissent
Only to feed their selfish intentions .

But this supreme , magnanimous mother
Forgives them all with unmixed love
And doles out her gifts to all in need
Regards of class , color and creed .

Be they loyal , sensible , grateful
Or most arrogant , selfish and rude
She is to them ever loving and kind
And never gets upset or unduly annoyed .

For she believes and rightly she does
That a mother should behave as a mother always
And let the children decide themselves
Whether to be grateful or otherwise .

So what if they sing not her praise aloud
Or even refuse to pronounce her name ?
Over and above these rituals she stands
Unblemished is her glory , uphold it or not .

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (2 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Dr.Indu Nautiyal

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I have been a teacher for about four decades ,but even more than that , a student and learner all along --literature being my favourite subject with special love for poetry , a trait I seem to have inherited from my father,who was a very good poet ,it was he that instilled in me a deep love for poetry early in childhood . Starting as a science student ,I shifted to literature after graduation and and worked on Emily Dickinson's poetry for Doctoral degree. I don't claim to be a poet ,but do admit my inherent love for poetic utterances as and when I find them and sometimes feel inspired to give vent to my own emotions in words that seem to convey them .Honestly it happens quite effortlessly and also leaves me with an immense satisfaction .If it can be termed poetry ,all the more rewarding. .
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Upon Thy Inchoate Manifestation…

Upon Thy Inchoate Manifestation... long poem

(as imagined by this lumpenproletariat) When no bigger then innocuous, ho hum, happy go lucky generic black whole sonny and cher full pinhead size zit, thine pluperfect promising mysterious seat of pants whodunnit wordlessly wise wedded waywardness writ partly apportioned,

My Unfaded Moon

My Unfaded Moon sonnet poems

In those corners of your eyes my darkness prevades I wish all the doors gets locked from inside Why does our western gleam fades in twilight shades And still you’re searching for me in pale moonlight The night never brings

My Pearl Of Inestimable Value

My Pearl Of Inestimable Value ode

My Pearl of Inestimable Value Out from its obscurity in this Silence Dawn, emerged an invisible Cruelty, gabbed in terminal robe; Stealthily descended upon this blissful abode: the habitation of ‘My Pearl of Inestimable Value’ With its fangs snarling in

Addition – Life Through Others

Addition   Life Through Others short poem

Addiction to harmless Is accepted Addiction to harmful Is not advisable Addiction is submission Which involves Imaginations Addition is Pollution Which involves Revolution Addition is attraction Which involves Affection Addition is a fiction Which involves Correction Addition is a caution

Voyage To The Bottom Of This…

Voyage To The Bottom Of This... ballad

Prevaricated Forth Write Declaration! As most every girl and boy taught back in the day, or more recently going to Zerns, a golden age of story telling, when rapt listening ears willingly leant eager attention to a riveting speaker such