When I sit to write,
I’ve words that assemble gently ,
at times with an unknown assertion.
Each one a sentence,
Pages to many short stories.
Selfless and unconditional
Words of love and care,
Spiritual and emotional milieu;
Oscillating between a situational teacher ,
Otherwise a friend;
Lessons unplanned yet taught,
Each one a description.
From your scribbled recipes
And shared values of tradition,
There’s never a day without references;
I seem not to have grown any bigger.
But, I like it when said,
I look like you.
Copyright © 2017, Deeya Nayar-Nambiar