~~~ The Moon-watcher ~~~

Lying on the bed, 

staring at the moon, 

that hangs at a little over half, 

feeling a lazy zephyr stream, 

inside the room swathed, 

in a soft milky glow, 

from the night lamp; 

my thoughts buoy about. 

Comprehension has its way, 

of coming to you, 

in ways you generally 

do not think about, 

during the hours of wake. 

It tiptoes in, 

just when slumber is around the corner, 

and then whisks it away. 

And I wonder. 

The moon I look at, 

from my bedroom is the same one, 

that my mom looks at too. 

Some thousands or hundreds of miles away she is, 

yet to her it is as big or small as it is to me. 

The blanket of reticent shimmer, 

the moon casts over me, 

glides all the way to her, 

and cradles her too. 

That its glow forges her spirit, 

with a tranquil heave of breath, 

just like it does to mine. 

Such a comforting thought, this. 

A maudlin me, 

perhaps a wee bit senile too, 

suddenly I feel tad nearer to mom, 

than I am, 

or could be; 

from two thousand kilometers away. 

And then I try to place a picture. 

Where she might be in her house at this moment. 

Gracing the sleepy aura with her dainty pretty smile, 

or sending out little melodies, 

from the chords of her voice, 

as the world writes its story, 

or infusing the universe around her, 

with the kindness that emanates from her, 

compassion filled gaze. 

And just like that, 

my spirit wakes up- 

kindled and elevated. 

Happiness just sauntered in...