Rumki Chowdhury is a published poet, author and journalist with a BA in Writing from William Paterson University of New Jersey, an MA in English Literature from the Queen Mary University of London and a Teaching Degree from Gävle Högskolan in Sweden. She is also an English teacher, a wife and a mother of three little blessings. Rumki's publications include "Her Feet Chime," "So Complicated" and "Unveiled." She is an active blogger: www.rumki.com

Dear Mother,

You once carried me,

Rocking me back and forth in your arms,


It wasn't my weight;

Rather, the hours it took for you to raise me

That strained the muscles from your neck, to your shoulders,

Down to your arms and into your wrists.


You couldn't carry me the same way in adulthood, 

Yet, carried me, you did.


You expanded like the universe,

Your eyes gave me the moonlight I needed

When lost in the darkness,

Exploring galaxy after galaxy. 


Your voice as sweet as milk,

Dipping in and out of the very constellation itself,

The milky way,

Led me along a pathway lit by the stars of your nurturing wisdom.


You continued to expand,

From your neck, to your shoulders, down to your arms and into your wrists,

Until I could fully comprehend what it meant to be a mother.


Dear Daughter,


When you think I am gone,

When I can no longer carry you,

Nor you feel like you are being carried,

Know my arms are infinite and ever-expanding.