Delta Phiri Born: 26/08/44 - Died: 25/06/21
ODE TO MY BELOVED MOTHER!
Conceived and Born into this world during World War 2
and exited into God’s Rest during a Pandemic:
Delta was a shining star perched between two darkest nights.
Growing up during the most difficult time in history:
she remained true to her name by channelling love
through her dazzling smile and ever glowing presence.
Her calmliness: her electrifying poise and soothing demeanour
attracted many friends who saw and found in her
a pillar and a fort to run to in their time of need.
She loved and welcomed everyone crossing her path
and always knew when to peacefully and silently withdraw
when confronted by haters who misconstrued her noble intentions.
After growing up without a mother from my tender age
I never knew that falling for her Daughter as a young man
could lead me straight into embracing motherly arms.
O’ for the love she gave to me constantly without reserve
God recreated the world I missed out on in my childhood
By giving me a Mother who loved me like a rock.
There’s no power strong enough to delete her from my heart and soul
her priceless smile, sweet voice and ageless memories will carry me
through all the storms and help me soar above the pain of missing her.
My Mother has returned to her original form and state of being
she cannot hear nor speak for herself, just like she was as a baby
and these tears I cry today are a testament of her true love.
Neither Death nor Grave has power enough
to decimate this love and strong bond bond we shared
And her face shines through bolder than her gravestone.
I’m glad that I told her just how much I loved her at every chance.
I need you all to help me please: rock her to sleep one more time
as we lower her body inside her eternal cradle where we all come from.
Copyright © Sydney Pikelela Gutyungwa, 02/07/2021
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The author would really appreciate your constructive comments based on how you understood and interpret each poem. Poems can mean different things to different persons and all views can be correct as long as they conform to the contents thereof. This is the beauty of Poetry.
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