I know the constantÂ
of my mother’s worship,
how she turnsÂ
her skin into scripture,
her veins into verse.Â
She sang in my left earÂ
on the day of my labor,
helped me pace my breath
as the tides rolled in,
as the waves came crashing
and you rushed from my womb.
She called me a warrior that day,
said my strength was likeÂ
the surge of a tsunami,
or the rumble ofÂ
a thousand mouths
opening in prayer.
This poem is from my book, Beckoning of the Wind: An Ode To Motherhood
These lines 🖤
"She called me a warrior that day,
said my strength was like..."
This gave me chills, in that magical sort of way. It’s amazing how much feeling, emotion and meaning can be encapsulated in a few short lines…