By Jenish J.
A symbol of the mother – strong and reliable.
How about your selflessness as the guideline of your actions has been my sign for some time?
You’ve taught me how to read with shards of glass.
And as far as you were concerned it was already written what I was to become.
In the furnace of our spirits there is an orgiastic interaction of fire and ice.
A storm of the contrasting phenomena, a music of the paradoxes.
The bright flares now encircle its perimeter, fire burning vivid,
Passion is inscribed on the skin of life in capital letters.
The love you have for me — steady light.
Has guided us and chased the night away.
It is of course true that looked at from a self-interested perspective you sacrificed your own health.
To plant, to cherish mine, another kind of love, indeed a different kind of love.
What we are is a burst of star matter dancing and writing its own constellations.
Still, frost can be heard in the silence that is present, feeling like ice on the skin.
Delicate frostbite of restraint. Stillness brings solace,
Medium is ‘Crystal,’ Stasis before the flame.
You learnt to rise above the pain and pains as if turning into a Phoenix bird.
To mask sorrow from me, so I do not get tainted by life.
Your moral lessons, oh they are precious that really cost a lot.
Helped in developing me, like a sculpture carved out.
We are filled with military rhythm, tribal and raw, the pulse begins to explode like the constellations inside.
We pursue the sunset and the comet’s streak, through the years,
Passing on burnt images to the furniture of peoples’ souls, our desire unquenchable.
Strength, that was your shield before life and its torrents.
Has been my friend, my help, my compass.
Thus you are bearing dual responsibilities of a father and a mother.
With the love that’s breakin me, it’s a full soul.
And so we dance – between flames and Frost.
Institutions, being active and passive, proved that emotion and reason, or aggression and serenity, are part of being human.
An existential ballroom dance of life.
Allow me to say it with words and with actions as well.
Till the end, for the prices paid, the love that has been prescribed.
You are my hero dear, my master, my star.
An orchestral creation of the essence of the word ‘mother’ – fire and ice, leading us to becoming that which we are.
Here I will kingdom more thank you in word and movement.
For all the selections you've made to sacrifice the whole thing for love. You're the only one I recognize and look forward to; you're the one I look forward to, the one who summons and flows me. Unison of fire and ice, a rightful maternal
symphony that defines who we're.