Rare occurrences

Teeny-tiny newborn,

cuddled in its cozy form,

half the size of my hands,

I lay him down on my bed,

gently rocking left and right, 

getting ready for his bath, 

his first bath at home,

**

Softly twinkling,

through the sounds of our voice,

through the shapes of our light,

he swiftly kicks with his leg, a wee push,

over my chest, leaning over his breath,

grabbing the towel lying near his head,

Oh! I am sorry, I convey,

A chuckle, I hear, my mom from beside,

and we giggle over his play for a while, 

"Let's go for a bath," I say,

and we stand looking at each other,

with a wary newness in our hearts,

**

Her hands on my shoulder,

she steps in and asks,

"How do you want to do it,

You tell me, how do you both want it,"

and I froze at the moment of her say,

looking at her in astonishment,

the awareness in her to ask, 

How did she even think of saying that? I thought,

surpassing the most common stands,

who can't stop from barging in and advising,

"don't do that, don't do this,

we don't do this in our culture,

this is how we do it as per our ritual,"

a stamp on every inch of the child's features,

I feel good, I was nowhere near these creatures, nurturers,

yet the experiences speak of these natures,

**

Oof! My thoughts rolling down a cliff road,

dominating the pleasing thoughts,

and I don't want to push it away or lock it down,

but witness from a window,

acknowledging its flow in the background,

**

I ask my mother, "Haven't seen you saying,

how much my son reminds you of me,

or, of course, my husband,

or my brother,

or any of your brothers and sisters,

or anyone, dead or alive, family members, the whole time."

**

And her calm smile comforts,

"Not here to take away your moments you sense wholeheartedly with my

memories of yours overpowering.

I have had my turn. Now, I am here for you.

So you tell me what you want."

**

Standing by my side,

accepting the differences in alignment,

suppressing her desires,  

the controversial conversations,

I look at her spark of energy,

an unwavering strength and faith,

the right words at the right moment,

without a doubt,

I lift my child and place him on her hands,

**

Tears rolling down our cheeks,

breaking the frozen moment,

a freshness in our breath,

a wave of silence in our eyes,

a trust of love in our smile,

Mom and son in the bathtub,

and me by their side,

memories showering the warmth of newness,

**

I etch my canvas,

a painting of my mom sitting in the bathtub,

bathing my son,

the strokes of footprints, signing,

Memories, a yearning for presence,

**

Don't want the colors to fade,

or the time to stretch,

Feels good to share,

something of my mother with my son,

and my son's to my mother, a special edition,

Secrets to treasure,

**

With a handful of soil,

I plant a seed of yours along with my son,

a tree I can always look out from my window

an imprinted memory,

carving its shape through time,

yet about tomorrow, never promised,

but, I water until that too passes away,

for we all are meant to leave.

- Nov 21, 2025