MITU OR SONU :ONCE A DAUGHTER ALWAYS A MOTHER

At birth she gifted me d stars
lying locked inside her closed fists
that perhaps decided my future;
as a baby girl she wiped away
all my frustrations in love in my youth
with her palms weaving magic in my eyes.

I knew not how she slowly grew up
to be still more sterner
with her soft frowning looks
at my bad habits;
her dictates to do this n not do that
her rectifying words
while stealing pain
from my aching temple
with balm in her delicate hands--
a tough girl friend indeed !

And now in my 50s she punishes me:
' 20 sit-ups' for talking in unacceptable
words to mom
her knowledge of law
sharpening her decisions
in d family court.

Am i still raw ?
still immature ??
or am i posing to b so???
i don't know...
but i always love my daughter
in her anger n in her rapture
i miss d smell of mother in her dark hair
when c is not there around;
she tells c too smells my presence
in my pijamas when i m not dere.

Why is it so
dat she like a mother
dictates my course to future ???