The Womb – Poems on Mother , Father , Children , Parenthood – Volume 1 by Nikhil Parekh - HTML preview

23. THE POWER OF MY MOTHER’S MILK 

I might have consumed just an infinitesimal pint of it when I was an impeccably oblivious infant; hardly acclimatizing my taste buds with its eternal fragrance,

I might have   consumed just a diminutive fraction of it when I was an innocuously inarticulate infant; hardly allowing it to blend with my freshly formed streams of crimson blood,

I might have  consumed just a mercurial sip of it when I was a pristinely princely infant; hardly allowing its Omnipotently heavenly goodness to settle in the corners of my discovering mouth,

I might have  consumed just a parsimonious rivulet of it when I was an incongruously disheveled infant; hardly letting its miraculously insuperable iridescence pacify my remorsefully traumatized thirst,

I might have consumed just an evanescent pinch of it when I was an incoherently unruly infant; hardly absorbing its everlastingly mesmerizing goodness in

the corners of my miserably asphyxiating throat,

I might have consumed just an ethereal speck of it when I was an inconspicuously measly infant; hardly feasting on its impregnably heavenly aura; to my tiny heart’s content,

I might have consumed just a fleeting bead of it when I was a fretfully wailing infant; hardly savoring its astronomical majesty with my crusts of minutely formed fresh teeth,

I might have consumed just a fugitive stream of it when I was a incessantly screeching infant; hardly realizing the spirit of Omnipresently egalitarian humanity; handsomely embedded in it,

I might have consumed just a disappearing mist of it when I was an incoherently feckless infant; hardly aware of its invincibly  healing touch; as I all I did was sleep all day and moonless night,

I might have consumed just an insipid globule of it when I was an indefatigably crying infant; hardly gulping it even a trifle of it properly down

my teeny-weeny throat,

I might have consumed just a transient molehill of it when I was an ungainly staring infant; hardly bothered about its unconquerable nutritional value; as all that

mattered to me was my toy cradle; toys and sleep,

I might have consumed just an ephemeral amount of it when I was an illiterately uncivilized infant; hardly envisaging the perennial armor of unflinching tenaciousness that it would enshroud me with; once it coalesced perfectly with my blood,

I might have consumed just a non-existent pinch of it when I was a ludicrously squealing infant; hardly comprehending the Omnipotent compassion behind its

dribbling towards my toddler lips,

I might have consumed just an invisible follicle of it when I was a preposterously unsuspecting infant; hardly placating the disastrously emaciated bowels of my tiny stomach with its gloriously godly flavor,

I might have consumed just a minuscule shadow of it when I was a discordantly groaning infant; hardly allowing its Omnipresent charisma to percolate through

my severely teething gums,

I might have consumed just a trailing gulp of it when I was a frantically searching infant; hardly feeling its regally marvelous goodness; enriching every pore of my newborn slimly skin,

I might have consumed just a vanishing potion of it when I was a haughtily pampered infant; hardly imbibing its timelessly blossoming resplendence; as I uncontrollably kicked every conceivable object in vicinity; with my miniature feet,

I might have consumed just a passing cascade of it when I was a quietly snoring infant; hardly having the sense to appreciate its magically formidable and euphorically endless tenacity,   

O! Yes, I might have consumed just a fleeting fraction of it when I was an incoherently trembling infant; hardly feeling it as it timelessly blessed every

aspect of my existence; for infinite births more of mine, 

But just that diminutive droplet of it; just that unnoticeable speck of it which I had unknowingly consumed; was enough for me to metamorphose the complexion of this estranged earth once again into a paradise; was enough for me to tower like the inferno of inimitably blazing truth for times immemorial; was enough for me to altruistically live and let live for a countless more heavenly lifetimes,

Such pricelessly immortal was the indomitable power of my; eternal mother’s milk.