Time

I rub extra virgin olive oil
into cracked heels.
Her feet are round, pudgy,

Swollen.
She winces and I apologise.

Sipping herbal concoctions with distaste

Hot water bottle against her waist

I wonder why the TV is on behind me
Pupils struggle to focus
She is staring at something beyond me

Tentatively moist hands

Rub between toes 

There are no

Does that hurt?

Or are my hands too cold

Today she lays down at ease

It is too quiet,

Unnerving is the sound as I breathe

Oh her feet are worn,
by burdens carried

Of heavy hearts and

Night time feeds,
There are steps taken
in an undisclosed history

For it is woman who strives

Hands raw to the bone
to feed the children

And build a home

This heart wonders at this world
that is seemingly the same

Deception. I know that it has changed

Systematically from right to left

Thrice. How miserable the passage of time

Bereft

The narration (hadith) as recorded by Imam Ahmad bin Hanbal in his Musnad is related by Mu`awiyah bin Jahima al-Sulami in which he came to the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace) and said,
‘O Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace) I desire to go on the military expedition and I have come to consult you.’
He (Allah bless him and give him peace) asked, ‘Do you have a mother?’
He said, ‘Yes.’
He (Allah bless him and give him peace) said, ‘Stay with her because paradise lies beneath her feet.’

'And We have enjoined upon man [care] for his parents. His mother carried him, [increasing her] in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning is in two years. Be grateful to Me and to your parents; to Me is the [final] destination.'
Surah Luqman Verse 14