The woman who watched the world turn,
Was she a goddess or a seer?
The woman who watched the world turn,
Was she a valiant warrior?
The woman who watched the world turn,
Is her presence some divine omen?
The woman who watched the world turn,
Behold, she’s merely human.
Born neither a queen, nor a pauper,
Simply, a large family’s daughter.
She grew up amidst calls for freedom,
Nurtured, by lessons that life taught her.
Fondled with love in her mother’s arms,
Yet, scarcely spoiled with worldly pleasure.
Wed to a man, working for honest dime,
She was his equal, his abode’s treasure.
A mother to six, like so many of her time,
The home was her shrine, its walls her fortress.
Her hands, the only weapon she bore,
To save many a babe, writhing in distress.
As times changed, she became a shadow,
Watching, as her children took on the world.
She basked in their glory, wept at their trials,
Shouldered blame, yet, she never did fold.
The world kept turning, she stood her ground,
That large family’s daughter, that working man’s wife,
Was now a grandmother, an angel in disguise.
Her mere presence, enough to illuminate a child’s life.
The sands of time raged, she became a pillar,
As tragedy struck, snatching the one she held most dear.
What had she, but her blessed hands?
They were enough to tear through that time of dark fear.
The winds of change now blew tender,
As she smiled through wrinkled eyes.
Her sacred arms held yet another babe,
Born in a world, dazzling, yet laced with lies.
She became the keeper of that babe’s heart,
The enchantress that charmed the babe’s mind.
Even as the world slipped through her fingers,
She stood tall, never to be left behind.
Then, the sun began to set.
Her time sputtered, coming to a slow stir.
She wondered, lying amidst a racing world,
How would the ones she left, remember her?
They’d remember her as a beacon,
That shone through the darkest night.
They’d remember her as a soldier,
Who never gave up without a fight.
They’d remember her as a saviour,
That woman touched so many lives.
They’d remember her in prayer,
Each time some peril arrives.
They’d remember her as a fairy,
Who sowed seeds of creative wonder,
They’d remember her as a goddess,
A saint, a seer, incapable of blunder.
Now as the sun did set,
Her memory, now a blessing, a good omen.
Remember, that woman who watched the world turn,
She was merely human.
By: Samiksha Deshpande
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