A Poem for Momma

(For my mother’s 73rd birthday)

Lord, help me not to forget who my mother is
She travailed for hours and hours with me inside
She is the woman who gave birth to me
Even when she says things I don’t want to hear
Help me to remember she has earned her place
She has earned my respect simply “She is my mother”
Let me not expect to get along with her all the time
The fact that she is still here is miracle enough
Let me not take my mother for granted
Every day is a celebration, everyday she is still alive
And I can hug her and tell her that “I love her”.
There is no one here who loves me more,
I am the child she carried for 9 months,
The child who is her blood,
I am more like her, than anyone else
Except my daughter, she is more like
Me than anyone else
Let us not forget who our mothers really are
Vessels of love God gave to us
To honor and respect
She deserves our gratitude every day we live
She was strong enough to carry me and love me
When it wasn’t always easy, when it was hard
And our bones collided
She didn’t stop loving me
When I was hateful in my teen years
When she should have slapped me more than she did
When my mouth was on fire, when my heart thought it knew
Best,
When I was only fooling myself, my mother always knew
When relationships would work out, which men were sincere
And which men only wanted to use her precious daughter
A mother knows and has an intuition,
She is a lioness where her children are concerned
Her soul knows my soul, and we are so much alike at times
God holds up a mirror to us,
Don’t forget our mothers, the bodies who carried us, bore us
Travailed in labor for sometimes days
Never forget that a mother is sacred and holy
The one God put in charge of our discipline and our needs,
The one who loves our ragged dirty little bodies, when we
Had diarrhea, when we were feverish, and vomited all over her clothes
She had many days, so many days, when she could have been more beautiful
But her beauty is inside, our hearts and temperaments aged her,
Our neglect, our arrogance that mistreats her,
Never neglect what God has given,
Children, remember no one has their mother forever
Love her while she is still alive, while her breaths are in this day,
Don’t try to love her the same way when she is gone,
While the rose is here, enjoy her fragrance,
Don’t wait until the flower has withered and only
The thorns on the stem remain

©Sept112017mattybduran

A Poem for Momma

Matty B. Duran

Joined July 2009

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Artist's Description

A poem to celebrate my mother Bertha Romero’s 73rd birthday, Sept. 11th.

Artwork Comments

  • trisha22
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