A Soft Mother

We need not be sharp like spines

Crowding a porcupine’s back without guidelines

Like the brush of comfort in a feather’s silky end

The softness in us is what the world craves to befriend

Hidden within are rare flowers

Guarded by thorny showers

Those thoughts, we wear them like hair on our head

While awareness sleeps under that bed

Our lives are upside down

When the mind is given the crown

More than just dust will be under our feet

When the mind can be cajoled into a retreat

There is freedom in expanse

Our sight may be restored with just one glance

By our Mother, for whom our universe is a speck

We are separated, by the mind’s narrow neck