"Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?" the baby asked <br />its mother. <br />She answered, half crying, half laughing, and clasping the <br />baby to her breast- <br />"You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling. <br />You were in the dolls of my childhood's games; and when with <br />clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade <br />you then. <br />You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship <br />I worshipped you. <br />In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my <br />mother you have lived. <br />In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have <br />been nursed for ages. <br />When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered <br />as a fragrance about it. <br />Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow <br />in the sky before the sunrise. <br />Heaven's first darling, twain-born with the morning light, you <br />have floated down the stream of the world's life, and at last you <br />have stranded on my heart. <br />As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong <br />to all have become mine. <br />For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What <br />magic has snared the world's treasure in these slender arms of <br />mine?"<br /><br />Sir Rabindranath Tagore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-beginning-5/
