MOTHER MIRACLE
Mother, I never asked you vital questions
my roots to find ancient and new. What was it like
to give birth to four children
to bring up generations in poverty and wealth
to maintain high spirits in darkness
to wash us in the waters of patience
to warm our hopes with clarity
to guide us without a compass in adversities
to spring clean the world with your will?
To warm winters with your hands
to make light without an oil lamp
to keep your faith strong through rough seas
to feed us your determination as nourishment
your hands, pure gold, hold the Earth.
Mother, I never asked you vital questions
countless questions growing in my mind, fast forward
laying roots, relating to you with fact and fiction.
What ideas nourished your mind, your hopes, your dreams?
I read your thoughts again, from the beginning of time
a brave woman, mountain like, spring like, earth like
without fear, doubt, uncertainty, prejudice
goddess-like, a peasant woman, who birthed
love, hope, faith, and light in me
© Roula Pollard
