Rosmin Elsa Mohan
I saw a million stars in the infinite sky.
My eyes remained closed and I never wanted to wake up. It gave me all the answers. The Why? The How? The Where? I knew for a fact there weren't much answers- perhaps it was what I always wanted to hear. The answers were always simple, the keyword was being genuine. It was now judgemental, trying to hide from what I really wanted to be. Trying to find all my answers in the only question that popped up over and over again.
Was I normal?
It had been a long night. It now seemed tough to realize what it all meant. For I hardly did see him at all - or was it so? Somewhere in the wild, leaves cracked and birds flew back home. A time of resignation. Yes even the flowering season was done with, and I could hardly see any colours. After all colours made you happy - it made you feel that there's vibrancy and delight. As the candies that I popped merrily as a kid. I was much happier then.
Colours they knew it all.
He left me. He left us.
Fate, Destiny, or lives crumbled when heavy motors collided. Particle collision has been always invigorating. Immense energy being released and transferred. The energy to live with, where does it all disappear? Does that too rest with the Sovereign source of energy? Strings that were attached to simply dissect at will? Did it mean that energy went wasted? My heart said it did. My brain went behind laws of conservation.
The Us was still a question. As I skipped my monthly cycles for the seed which now constantly reminded me that I had him with me 30 hours back. It meant that my body was now shared, all that was in it. It also meant something more terminal - I was a widow, with a foetus to embellish upon that reality of my life.
Was I normal? Yes I would have been, under any other normal circumstances, with a husband to hide myself in; his care and affection to fill my body and soul. The joy of being overwhelmed in becoming a mother. But today it was so lethal.
It killed me, scared me, injured me, so wanting to hide myself and get lost forever. It gave me no choice of maternity, relentlessly pushing me into an ocean of despair.I looked at the pen knife that I held in my right hand. It now bruised my palm. A moment of hopelessness, should it all end in a pool of blood? I was groping for answers. But were all those answers, ultimately that I really wanted? I wish I knew. But did I really?
I did. At least now my brain did!
I dropped the knife and picked out a verse from my Bible. It read 'The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves.'
I knew my answer.
The faith that the Sovereign gave me, to push me through all this. The divinity of motherhood which I was too small to prejudge. He knew it all. After all it was about His grace in me. His mark in me. The hour when I had to help myself, strengthen the faith in myself.
Without Faith, it was all but sin.
I opened the windows. The sky still seemed dark, but I knew there was a light that was coming. The light at the end of the tunnel. It was a Prayer. The light of promise to cherish. The light of promise to love.The mirage had now become so transparent.
The One in many, or the many in One.
I now realized what it meant.
Rosmin Elsa Mohan's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
The message is very simple:
You are so special!
Comments about this poem (Pluralities by Rosmin Elsa Mohan )
- मेगनआव गोग्लैदोँ, Ronjoy Brahma
- Sun, Barati Lesetlhe
- Moon, Barati Lesetlhe
- Letters to the heart...., Nandipha Mphanya
- In each day's silent need (Italian sonnet), Gert Strydom
- Despair, Gert Strydom
- DALYA IN RAVENSBURG 74, Terry Collett
- Tomar Hansi Tomar Kanna, ramesh rai
- But peace, hasmukh amathalal
- Rah! rRah! Siss-boom-bah!, Frank Avon
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
Sheldon Allan Silverstein
(September 25, 1930 – May 10, 1999)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(16 April 1918 – 27 February 2002)
- Heather Burns