Bushel to Bouquet

What bushel of thorns produces such a mesmerizing bouquet?

Begums of Oudh, that’s what I thought you might say

Fuzzy warmth fills the chest recounting your face

Images of compassion-memories of grace

My Father’s Mother

My Grand Mother

My Dadda

Your progeny has multitudes to learn from this light

Your life

Ripe with blessings and strife

Early mornings, long nights

The lowest of lows

The highest of heights

Advancing beyond generations in the tomb

Bringing forth Khans from her womb

a four foot eleven Khatun

Standing tall after all

After All

All

Whenever the heart is immersed in worry

Let gratitude burst forth in a hurry

You’ve seen the Port Credit snow flurry

Sent from the heavens above

A woman of strength, perseverance, and love

Soon after leaving Sheeba’s tummy

The first woman I called Mummy

I will not bid you a good day

Rather bid the day good

For being able to have you

In it’s midst

I will not bid you a good day

Rather bid myself good

Asking our Lord to keep you healthy

- by praying you will still stay

I love you with all my heart

It’s from Allah

جَزَاكَ ٱللَّٰهُ خَيْرًا‎