Vision of a Mother

Author: Caleb David Duku

Dedicated to Mrs. Rosaline A. Duku

Vision of a mother

Her supple lips do crease my brows,

Her kiss spoken soft like tender vows,

Her imprint cold,

A wisp of winter,

She whispers softly into my ears,

Her voice is low but crystal clear,

The words that part from her lips,

She holds dear,

As tendrils on a plant so rare,

She looks into my eyes and says,

“You are my son, my love, my gain,”

Day by day she sees me grow,

Like plants that bloom after winters snow,

She hugs me tight and holds me close,

She whispers again,

Saying,

“I’ll never let go,”

Those words are empty,

But full of love,

Born from a mother’s womb above,

She loosens her grip,

And says to me,

“You are my son, so please do shine bright,”

Now I am old and growing still,

So I hold her close,

And whisper at will,

I kiss her cheeks,

And rosy they’ll be,

As I tell her that my only love is she,

She looks at me with teary eyes,

Full of joy and far from strife,

And once again she says to me,

“You are my son, my love my all.”