An ode to woman: A poem by Nazima Kachwalla
How beautifully she sings during storms,
The stronger the winds the sweeter her
voice,
Her under-toned faith against the howling
breeze,
Like a smiling rose amidst the thorns.
She brings life to a deserted portal,
Paints it with hues from her soul.
And how patiently she sculpts,
Fine humans from ordinary mortals.
Yes! The architect, may not have built a
grandeur Rome,
But with love and undying commitment,
Makes an ordinary walled house,
A blissful heaven, to be called a home.
Quietly with concern and care,
Her lovely hands churn magic,
As she puts at the table, her love,
Delectable, flavoursome and so aromatic.
A teacher, an accountant, a legal advisor,
How many roles so dutifully she plays,
A mother, a sister, a daughter, a wife, a
friend,
The Creators Eve, a woman, an enchanting
blend.
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