Sunday, January 20, 2013


I look into your clear eyes and see right into your soul
I listen to your laughter that is louder, fuller, purer than the ringing of temple bells
I touch your smooth skin, wondering at its perfection 
I taste the salt in your tears when you bury your face in my neck for comfort
I smell the sweet scent of your baby-breath as you struggle to tell me how you feel. 
I struggle to tell you how I feel. 
Do you understand the word Blessed?
One day you will. 
When you’re old enough to understand, I’ll be old enough to explain. 
Until then, I just look, listen, touch, taste, and smell. 
And suddenly, the whirling exhaustion of my jaded mind doesn’t matter. 
Suddenly, it all makes sense.


  1. Oh Yashodhara..... your poem makes me want to cry....
    I can feel that lump in my throat urning to explode into tears.

    Beautiful... just beautiful!

  2. Hi y...i shared this pg on fb...much appriciation there too...loved it.- Mini


Hi there. Go on, say it. Well? WELL?