The Hands That Cradled Me by Harbina Randhawa SignUp
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Theme: Mother Share This Page
The Hands That Cradled Me
by Harbina Randhawa
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The Hands That Cradled Me1.jpg
  She's a flower,
Who's fragrance freshens me when I'm tired.
She's a pillar,
Who's strength supports me when there's strife
She's the hand,
That picks me up when the chips are down.
She's the stream,
Who's sip invigorates me when I am worn out.
She's the eyes,
That prods me to do my best.
She's the prayer,
That God listens to, to help me achieve.
She's the farmer,
Who tills the soil of my potential.
She's the inspiration,
That goads me to do my best.
She's the balm,
That soothe my sores.
She's the protection,
That shields me from life's harshness.
She's the speech,
That lulls the storm within me.
She's my mother, the light of my soul,
I am her child, her life, her reason to be.

May 13 ,2007
More by :  Harbina Randhawa
Views: 1
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A Bystander's Diary Analysis Architecture Astrology Ayurveda Book Reviews
Buddhism Business Cartoons CC++ Cinema Computing Articles
Culture Dances Education Environment Family Matters Festivals
Flash Ghalib's Corner Going Inner Health Hinduism History
Humor Individuality Internet Security Java Linux Literary Shelf
Love Letters Memoirs Musings My Word Networking Opinion
Parenting People Perspective Photo Essays Places PlainSpeak
Quotes Ramblings Random Thoughts Recipes Sikhism Society
Spirituality Stories Teens Travelogues Vastu Vithika
Women Workshop
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