My Mother Hid It All

Her tired eyes are yearning some sleep,
Yet she goes on and on and on;
My uninterrupted snooze her priority,
As she finishes my projects till dawn...
In her cheerful morning coffee,
My mother hid it all.

Bathed in sweat, forehead crinkled;
She burns in the kitchen after work:
Our empty stomachs her only concern,
While racing time, her hands fly berserk...
In her short evening nap,
My mother hid it all.

Her loving heart broke bit by bit,
The countless instances I've been mean;
And oh did she silently cry at times?
Well this tragic sight was never seen...
In the washroom at midnight,
My mother hid it all.

There's more she did and does secretly,
Sacrifices of which I'll never know;
She transforms into a teacher, a friend,
And other unspoken avatars yet to show...
For in her silk saree,
My mother hides it all.

Let me from today discover those treasures,
In her wisdom and cherish her power;
She's a universe, an infinity of love,
Deserving more than a hug, a kiss, a flower...
In my gratefulnss will I whisper truth now,
As I promise to not make her hide anything, anymore.

~Swathya