In the subversive cold of the darkness,
My hands went searching for the comfort of my birth
As I lay in my mother’s warmth filled arms
My toys were handmade from care
Piled up for the loneliness that shares the freedom
Of a helpless child on the ground
And playfully I laid in my mother’s arms
My lips were taught words to hold
My feeble knees taught to kneel and pray
To Him that my imagination longed to know
And thankfully did I rest in my mother’s arms
My innocence paved way for guilt
My hope glided at the tide of fate
And my feet paddled the wheels of dreams
Still gently I laid in my mother’s arms
My days were spent mostly in the dark
The marrow of my bones sucked by hunger
My stomach filled only by thoughts of a meal
But happily did lay in my mother’s arms
Storms and chaos sprung out in earnest
At both side of our wooden house
Shrouding my heart with pang of fear
But safely did I lay in my mother’s arms
Even in my eyes, I am nothing, poor;
My beauty was concealed by the dirty rags
In which I hovered on Christmas Eves
But merrily did I lay in my mother’s arms
I might live and walk as a little child
Or as stooped as a wizened old man
Whose hands gather the miseries of life
Still I reminisce the times in my mother’s arms
Written by: Fesojaiye Dayz Atanle
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
Much wonder is the accorded the love, the connection, the powerful bond between a child and mother. Years may swirl past, distance may thrive, but the bond remains.
I agree Mr. Walter…my mum and I are bonded for life
Reblogged this on MY MIND SNAPS.