The Win


Rushing in I threw my bags
Disgusted I was with myself
Straight I went and fell on bed
Wept I till exhausted,slept

Dark dreams overtook my little mind
Wept I in troubled sleep
Knew not when strong arms held me tight
Kissed away the frightening dark

Strong aroma wafting through the air
Piercing through my nostrils wide
Sent signals to the brain asleep
Coaxed it, set my body free

Opening eyes, I found her there
Plate full of cookies held in hand
With eyes angry I looked at her
Words of hate wafted through the air

On and on I poured my heart
Fear, anger, anguish kept tumbling out
Silently she heard it all
Uttered not a single word

Done and spent, I looked her square in the eyes
Searched for embers red in dark eyes
But what I see, not anger there
Sadness, empathy and much more

Soft hands took mine in theirs
Eyes of compassion searched my face
Pulling me to her bosom warm
Held me tight in loving warmth

Know not how long we sat there like this
Gentle hands caressed my head small
Stream of words flowed softly from her lips
Love and warmth in them I felt

That day a bond was made between us two
My tiny heart miserable, afraid
Her mother’s heart full of love and care
The wall of hate fell away

The mother in her won me, her adopted child
The battle of hate she won with love
Tolerance and compassion played a role
They paved the way for everlasting love.


Inspired by the prompt ‘Listen with the ears of tolerance! See through the eyes of compassion! Speak with the language of love! ~ Rumi‘ on WRITE TRIBE

Inviting you to also visit my other blog i.e. CANVAS

By the way don’t forget to leave your footprints in the form of comments and suggestions. Your words mean a lot to me.


About Geeta Nair

Born in Independent India to two really wonderful people who cherished and nourished me with great care, I consider myself lucky to have had the best that life could offer me. Lucky to have had the best education , the best sibling, the best husband, the best daughter,the best of everything that I could ever want, Love to live life on my terms .

25 responses »

    • Thank you Kathy.Yes, it is indeed a difficult task. But them I had some wonderful colleagues who were great mothers to their adopted children. This poem is dedicated to them.


  1. That was beautiful Geeta. I cannot even begin to imagine how much patience and love and understanding one would need for an adopted child.


  2. Just to let you know that I was here – over a year late – but I’m reviewing the entries to make sure the results of this contest are announced finally. My apologies for the inordinate delay. Keep writing!


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