October 14, 2010
I watch from beneath the summer trees
My son playing in the hot fields
Not knowing I am there
Though he seems not to care
I sweat because his head is bare.

I hold my breath while he rolls
Down the grassy slopes, with exuberant whoops
My heart turns along with him,
Every thud echoes in me when he
falls and scrapes his knee.

Does he know a stone lies ahead?
That the grass hide nettles on their thorny beds
When he sprints with sheer joy
I catch my breath which leaps and bounds
Behind him but without a sound.

As the big ball tumbles down from the sky
He stands alert, little hands ajar
Looking up, amongst the clouds
My heart soars up to catch the ball
And prevent him from taking a fall.

Do his school folk ever know?
That his mother and her fears
sit near him on the desks or floor.
When they box his tiny ears
I am the one who dissolves into tears.

Whenever the big bullies come,
his little face quakes with fear .
Though he puts on a brave show.
My love becomes an invincible fort
and dares anyone to come to blows.

When he sings the morning prayers
His hands folded, sweet eyes closed
My heart swells with pride for him
I lift him up for the world to see
kissing him gently but invisibly.



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