Dear Mama

Another Apronsong for my Mother, Blanche Medorah Cunningham Bowen    
on the 107th Anniversary of her Birth (1913 February 06)  
   
    
“Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also,    
and he praises her.”  Prov. 31:28 ESV    
   
your eyes are looking back    
a hundred years    
although no longer can    
they see my tears    
you led me by the hand    
when I was small    
now I am vowed to lead    
you, lest you fall    
if I could smell the flow'rs again    
that nestled on your garden path    
and watch you wipe the bloody stain    
from fingers stung by red-rose wrath!    
   
old whispered moments    
echo in your head    
although your ears are but    
as good as dead    
the songs that once regaled    
your lyric tongue    
have ne'er my bosom failed    
since days were young    
you carried me o'er rocky trails    
and saved me from dark, sultry nights    
as strength today your bones curtails    
i'll be your bedside candlelight    
   
you sacrificed the milk    
of tenderness    
to woo my feet from paths    
of recklessness    
victim of hardship, you    
have struggled long    
yet facing woeful threat   
with hopeful song    
your nimble hands have fashioned dust    
to consummate sufficiency    
equal to life’s deep cut-and-thrust    
how generous your clemency!    
   
© Copyright 2020 February 05    
by Clyve A. Bowen♫

                                              


I know you’re in a better place so I won't ask how you’re doing.
I know you’re watching over me so I ask you, how you think I'm doing?

From the beginning of high school I decided not to show emotion I don't know why.

But that morning I got the call to say you were on your way out, I couldn’t help but cry.

I would cry you a river if meant you floating your way back to us.
But you've gone you’re now the angel up there looking out for us.

I wondered for a while as a man crying does that make me soft, does that make me weak.
Whether hidden or on show emotions are part of me so the answer to that question I no longer seek.

One special lady that held the family together.

Too many memories you’re in our hearts forever.

Free of pain, dementia no longer has a hold on you.

Forever is the length of time we will remember you.

Five children left here on earth representing you.

The 6th child has made his way up to heaven to find you.

7 days a week I regret not visiting regularly enough.
I'm learning to move on with life but it's been rough.

8 times I thought about writing this before I swallowed my pride.

Now here I am on your nine night celebrating your life, with friends and family by my side.

I told you I wasn't happy with what I've achieved so far and you said be patient there's plenty of time.

But procrastinating is what kept me from seeing you, now I feel like I haven't learnt I'm still here wasting my time.

Writing these poems is either a mid-life crisis or an inspirational change.

I've been making the same mistakes to go with the same excuses I felt something had to change.

I'm still figuring it out, after all these years I'm still lost trying to find my way.

Tell me how I'm doing, help me find my way.

You gave me life and love when I could
Barely breathe or move on with my life.
In a world with hate you always stood
There with the weight, but still in strife

You never complained once about pain
Or hardship. You stand strong and firm
Like the earth’s dirt. In all the wind, rain,
Storms and chaos you are there to affirm

What I knew all along, that I am one of
The lucky ones. I have always wanted to
Follow in your footsteps, but like a dove
I must fly my way by following the blue

Sky to wherever I can find my happiness
And make it on my own. You taught me
Someone could come from scrappiness
Or somewhere terrible, but we can all be

Somewhere whole or beautiful. The place
And destination is far from perfect, but
The only thing that matters is that I trace
Your love with my fingertips, not shutting

It out even if I tried really hard. I am no
Longer a little kid fitting perfectly within
Your soft arms, but still you let me grow
And become me – comfortable in my skin,

Silly, beautiful beyond measure, bright,
And kindhearted despite what the world
Keeps throwing at me. You gave me light
At the end of the tunnel. Behind your curled

Smile, I see perfection despite the wrinkles
Or gray hair. I see your strength regardless
Of the mountains you climbed. The twinkles
In your eyes stay. Your love is far from starless.