Email Poem

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Poem

True woman,
With a loving heart,
With caring hands.
You that watched while I slept,
Sing to me again,the lullaby.

True woman,
Echo that melody of how the angels,
Beautifully sang,as they welcomed His birth -
And I'll join to sing along,
For this is what Christmas was all about.

African woman,
You that mothered me,
And gave me this name.
You that covered me with your woolen blanket,
While the cold hit you all through the night.

All I have,I got from your labor.
Days were cool knowing that I could see you;
Moreso days that bring December to an end!
Shopping made sense, baking meant joy.
You smiled,while you fed me.

The night is nearly over,the light soon rises,
And this shadow of loneliness behind which I walk,
Shall be swept away like chuff by the wind.
I can feel you once again,your presence surrounds me,
Not because you are risen like my saviour.

Christmas will again be worth the preparation,
Conscious that I will be with you by my side;
And that all I do shall make you proud.
I miss you,mother. And that,I cannot hide;
That's why I will come home this December.

I'll board the bus from this foreign land,
Till I get home, and rest in your arms.
I will feel your warmth again like it was in the beginning,
When the midwife made us that skin to skin contact.
I will be with you this time,it's a living promise.

African woman,
Take your rest,
I'll soon be home,
To watch over you,while you sleep.
To warm you,when the cold hits on.

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