For My Mama – Rock Me to Sleep

As Mother’s day is here again, how I hunger for the affection from my mama. I crave to hear her call my name, “Ash”, with that hallow girlish tone that used to bring a huge smile to my face. Whatever was bothering me at the moment would disappear.
I stumbled upon this beautiful poem below (Rock me to Sleep) and, after reading the first line (Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight), a stab of pain jolted through me. Tears immediately followed. Reflecting back on a lifetime of memories, I have to say it’s been an extraordinary journey with my divine mother. The greatest gift she instilled in me was her love for the divine. The way in which she worshiped was mesmerizing; it was like a child at play with her mother. If you understand Hinduism, you know at the least the main deities by name. My mama used to chant all their names and then look at me and ask, “Ash did I forget anything?” It was so precious; I miss that way of being with her.
Though I miss her physical being, I can feel her spirit caressing me at times. It’s been truly crushing without her, but it’s the circle of life. I pray that her soul is at the feet of the divine.
Take care of your mother if she’s still with you.
A beautiful day to all the mothers around the world, your work never ends…

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again just for tonight!
Mother, come back from the echoless shore,
Take me again to your heart as of yore;
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care,
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair;
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;–
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years!
I am so weary of toil and of tears,
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,
Take them, and give me my childhood again!
I have grown weary of dust and decay,
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away;
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—
Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep!
Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue,
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you!
Many a summer the grass has grown green,
Blossomed and faded, our faces between:
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain,
Long I tonight for your presence again.
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
No love like mother-love ever has shone;
No other worship abides and endures,
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours:
None like a mother can charm away pain
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain.
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold,
Fall on your shoulders again as of old;
Let it drop over my forehead tonight,
Shading my faint eyes away from the light;
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore;
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!
Mother, dear mother, the years have been long
Since I last listened your lullaby song:
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream.
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace,
With your light lashes just sweeping my face,
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!

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Through the eyes of Mayi

Mayi was one of those people you instantly fall in love with, she’s was like a magnet, alluring you from a distant.

Although we have known each other for over a decade, we had only met for the first time a few years back.  Luis my friend and her husband called and said they were coming to Los Angeles.  I was so excited, I remember meeting Mayi, her smile and laughter filled my home for days…She would visit me again that same year in 2008.  It was the time last I would see her.

Mayi passed away from her struggle with cancer on March 31st, 2010.   It was an honor to have known you my friend.

She had the essence of a wholesome spirit, genuine, enthusiastic, elegant and joyous all the time.