by Sneha Subramanian Kanta
Blessed bounty of flowers...innocence still intact...
I wonder what I should call a blessing
Your little hands, soft palms;
The lovely forehead or the supple cheeks
You brought me light
When everything around me seemed dark
I picked up the threads of life
Slowly unraveling the tied strings
And all I got was a void of nothingness
Except when you with your little toes
Came crawling beside me
That is when I saw a ray of light;
Told me that I should live
Although I have lost everything
My husband killed in a bitter warfare
I live on
For the blessing I have got - -
My little child.
Was inspired to write this verse about four years ago after seeing a short documentary about wives of men who serve in the army across the world.