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Lies the gift of birth in her
She, the soul handover of love
Love ever triumphant and conquering
Ever daring beyond a naked human barrier
Past reasoning
She is the tenderiser to a man’s heart
She is a mother
An African pot upright on her three legged feet
On life’s burning coals
When men’s boldness lacks fuel injection
And have lost the struggles
In the hot steamy kitchens
Her hope within springs to curse
Tomorrow’s woes from her heart
That as long as this powerful plays resumes
In her daily bisexual positions
Charging at life dressed in slacks
Sons and daughters spirits shall be fed
A lasting privilege,
Love
That leaves a soul marveling
Whether a home can be a home
Whether a child can find solace
In between the ruthless world
Can this path be tender?
When she has descended to the silent world
And there is none to equal
Or to play in her fit less shoes
She is a mother
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