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| DANYE..MEANS MY MOTHER IN EWE. |
Out of her pain I was born,
Her crying and wailing brought me forth breathing,
Just when she heard my cry,
Her pain gave way to her Joy,
With blood all over me she held me close to heart,
Kissed my fore-heard, saying
“You are the best thing that happened to me, you are my Miracle.”
On her nipples I sucked, Her milk gave me strength
Her thighs I soiled, Her heart I broke many a time with my misdoings
Yet each time she showed me much greater love.
Ask me a million times and my answer will be same, never to differ.
That all mothers are women but not all women are mothers.
For, that requires not just being addressed a mother but putting on the hood, that comes with it.
Not all can own it cos it’s enduringly priceless, a happy commitment borne from sharing and caring and above all, it’s that feeling which touches the hearts filling it with an unconditional love.
A purposed life that brings from within to the outside, the very best, through pain and birth, giving rise to,
you and I, and her, my mother, from another.
And so today, I will say this to my mother, not any other,
Like she said to me many years ago when i was much younger,
Mother, “You are the best thing that happened to me, you are my Miracle.”
I love you, happy mother's day.
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I dedicate this poem to all sweet mothers out there, all potential mothers, and you young ladies who will one day grow into beautiful women and mothers. God bless you all for making this world a better place.
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