Inadequate Seeking Adequate

Eyes lowered
And lips painted,
Daughter hides
Beneath her bridal sari.
Have you seen such fabric?
True Indian silk!
The finest of dyes
Color richer than pomegranates.
Her hands are folded
Mirror images of lotuses
The mehndi is dark burgundy
Bursts of flowers
Whorls and curves
Merging into her skin.
A complexion so fair
(The moon would be jealous!)
Young skin all the way
Down to her silver anklets
Listen to the soft
Shudder of their bells.
Her stomach is smooth, slim
The navel so deep
It could hold a spoonful of
Cinnamon butter
Have you ever seen such bangles?
They were once her mother’s,
But Daughter now wears them;
And you could have
Both bangles and bride.

Look! She peers at you
From under her head cloth
Eyes of a doe
Sweet, modest, shy
She does not make a sound.
She does not protest.
She will not protest.
Such a treasure
Pays for its own bride price.
Such a thing
Could be your own.

(My dear beti needs a home
She is eldest of five girls.
She is a good girl
And deserves
All the things that
Baba could not provide.)

© copyright by Yeeva Cheng, 2010