I call you mother. Yet, O! You are God! Goddess! Fairy!
You’re like the invisible shore of the visible sea!
You’re, O princess! Beauteously divine! Exuberant!
In you, every atom transforms and proves purely potent!

Smallest creature-wonders to the greatest animals, hale,
Softest of breeze to the thunder, lightning, and the great gale;
Grass, plants, and vegetation that many mysteries hide,
The sun, moon, stars, and planets, like infants, in you, abide…

Wonders, like magic, you reveal randomly each moment,
My life is a splendid gift in your holy covenant;
From entering the womb till reaching the tentative tomb,
In you, my Garth! I live and love and bud and plume and bloom!

You are Aphrodite – of love, beauty, and awe – inflow,
Ghats of graces gild your gardens gleeful gorgeously glow;
Though thorns thrill and thrive, like thugs and pricks and poke hardest bones,
Fragrant flowers blossom brightening moods of mourning tones…

Your vindictiveness spread its wings with unending passion,
You are, yet, heavenly divine goddess of compassion;
From nooks of the earth till highest of skies you solely reign,
On the smallest of grass and largest trees, your mercies rain…

Gentle breeze, turning into, tough tornado and tempests…
Cooling drops, flowing into streams, rivers, and flood-conquests…
Tsunamis of seismic waters, seizing beings alive…
Are these but cycles of cleansing for new lives to arrive?

Doesn’t a wise mother punish her naughty loving child?
Your prompt wrath, indeed, is corrective, though willfully wild;
Surprises, like waterfalls, wrap me – serene, still and cool,
From the unknown heights, they arrive, yet they’re as light as wool…

Harmoniously rhythmic is your mighty Milky Way,
I, a minute melody, move and make musical sway;
As a mother calling her son home after his long play,
You call me to Rest In Peace and no more to stray away…