Call me by my Name
A mother is born
The minute a child is.
A wail tugs at her heartstrings
Galvanizes a tenderness from the coils of her sinews
Into a new energy, a new being called mother.
A day arrives when that very same energy
Molten, moulded, hewn and chiselled
Like a sculptor’s pride is put out for the world to see.
An exhibit of her best self.
Where have all the years gone?
She tugs at the first silvery streak.
Time has raced forward, leaving her with silver in her palm
A trophy for the years dedicated to a marathon run.
She stares at this stranger in the mirror
This person, unknown, even to her
And whispers gently, Call me by my name.
It sounds sweet to her ears, as she starts walking in a new direction
Multitudes are walking the same path
Somebody in the crowd calls her name.
She laughs in glee.
All is not forgotten, nor lost.
She rediscovers the” I”, the “me “ and the “we.”
The submission is a part of the International Women's Day Celebration 2022 by Rhyvers Media Group
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