Ode to my parents – by Sunita Sharma

A Morning Hymn

My Parents don’t know that I am awake.

That I can hear them.
Their talk is unguarded, their love and companionship emanates through the relaxed soft waves of their conversation.

 

They don’t know that I am awake. That the sound of their voices is what I heard as an embryo from my mother womb.
I am comforted.
I am reassured.
I know they are ironing out any creases.

 

They don’t know that I am awake but the sound of their voices is what woke me up.

 

Their voices hobbling around the obstacles of their new tongue.
Treading gently.
Carving and scratching delicately to create a space in an alien hollow.
Gaining strength, encouraging me to push further into new territories.
Their voices started the ripples and waves of my own voice.

 

They don’t know that I am awake.
They don’t know that they woke me.
They don’t know that their conversation is the hum of my universe.