MAMA, My Shero!
Wrapped in a beautiful baby wrapper
Your hands outstretched and waiting
Your face beamed with joy and delight
Your precious bundle was handed to you
On a cold July night.
The oohs and ahhs were aplenty
From people far and wide
Gushing over the sleeping baby
And Mama in blissful ignorance
Beamed with unending joy.
It was at age two When the battle cry first rang
And then the fight began
The fight for her baby to stay alive.
There was no manual on how to fight this fight
No guide to show the way and explain the battle tactics
Road maps and markers absent
Nothing save my Mama's love.
Nobody said the battle could be easy
Nobody prepared her for the sleepless nights
Nobody told her back could serve as ambulance
My cries of deep pain her siren sound
Nobody mentioned the pacing at the hospital corridors
Nobody spoke about the bills, worries, sweat and tears
For her precious bundle against the odds, thrive.
Like the amazon she is
She rose tall and strong
Her blood many times my lifeblood
Refusing to bow.
No manual to lead the battle
Love was the sword that cleared hospital paths
And slayed the pain dragons again and again
Strength personified I vouched for gladly
I stand and thrive because of her
My Mama, My Shero!