Best Lifehusband Poems
Thunder and lightning ruled the black night
As the frightened young mother struggled
Beads of sweat ran down her pretty face
The old midwife calmly sponged off sweat
She hummed a lullaby to soothe her pain
Praying that the husband would be back soon
Five miles to travel in treacherous weather
Seeking the one doctor for hundreds of miles
Twelve hours of labor now seemed like days.
Fell trees and shaved off roof tops, toppled by whipping winds
Rising rivers were swollen, and flooded make shift roads
Endless rain poured like there would be no end
Meanwhile her unborn child lay bridged as it battled for release
Suddenly the door burst open and the doctor rushed in
His clothes sticking to his skin; there was no time to change
With his palm he felt her forehead asking pertinent questions
He and the old midwife tried manually to turn the exhausted child
At each attempt, mother’s painful cry was heard in the distance
She gave one guttural scream and usherd her baby into the world
The child, born limp, barely breathing as the mid wife took her away
He starred into her eyes, and knew that she was beyond his help
He brought the new born to lie in her mother’s warm arms
The silence was noticeable; the raging storm had passed
The sound of light rain, now a comfort, gently tapped upon tin roof
In a soft, weak voice she called her husband and managed a smile
Then she blessed her child with words from a mother’s heart
“May you be a light, swift as lightning when days grow dark.”
“May you have wisdom and foresight beyond your days”
“May your heart nurture and remain open to love”
“Like rain, may you bring life to all “
“Born this stormy night, your name will be “Rain”.
~*~
By : Audrey Carey
Note: Imagination at work:) Written for Constance's "Rain, The Story" Contest.
My imagination took me to some little village in Africa. This scene is played out in
many villages where health care is non-existent. However, there's always, thanks
to God, a wise, caring "midwife" to help mothers during delivery.
Everyday, countless miracles are performed by God through "midwives"!
She quietly whispers, "I love you"
As she kisses them on their heads
She listens to their evening prayers
And then tucks them in their beds
"One more story", says the smallest
"It's getting late", her mother would say
"Now close your eyes and go to sleep,
For tomorrow's another day"
She's done the best she can
Raising three children alone
They've always had plenty to eat
And a place to call their home
But still she pauses to wonder
How happy they could have been
If her husband wouldn't have cheated
And then walk out on them
Only in her loneliest moments
Does she think about the past
A marriage without commitment
Was destined not to last
She never thought she could make it
Without her husband by her side
Her wounds have opened a whole new world
To show what's hidden inside
She no longer cries herself to sleep
And the night's don't seem so long
Sometimes it's takes a tragedy
To make a person strong
There is something wrong about me.
I know there is, it just has to be.
Why else would I be tortured so?
Why else would I be so low?
My children were ripped from arms,
For fear I would do them some terrible harm.
Married not once, not twice, can we say three?
All were not terribly nice men to me.
First husband was a mean drunk,
I left him soon after as we were sunk.
My second husband was a cheat,
And the third thought I was his to beat.
I know God really truly exists,
I am just far down on his list.
I have grown oh so weary
Of my life just being dreary.
I, for once, want to know I matter.
Am tired of being torn to tatter.
It just seems that I am always full of woe.
Will my troubles ever really go?
Will I ever be loved, really?
Will I be loved as I have loved so freely?