The oldest daughter, the responsible one.
Her youth went in settling her brood.
There was nobody to see her bloom,
Hers was what is called an unfulfilled life.
When she should have been chasing her kids,
She was caring for her bedridden mum.
Orange petals caught the rays of the sun,
Teaching her class gave her so much joy.
Her petals shriveled. She retired.
On her 70th birthday, a zoom call-
Her students popped up one by one.
Doctor, architect, politician, mother, teacher.
Even after a marigold dies,
Each petal grows into a plant.
Kushmanda, the Creator of the Cosmic Egg
Marigold, the Universe is created from her smile