God bless the woman,
God bless the queen,
An Angel,
Whose immeasurable services,
Are never appreciated,
A varied flower,
Which decorates the world,
And makes life,
Worth living,
A being,
That is just another way,
Of making another being,
God bless her.
You are so many things,
In one,
As much as you are one,
In so many things,
Daughter, sister,
Mother, wife,
Comforter, consoler,
To mention,
But just a few,
And an irreplaceable extension,
And conduit,
To man,
You are some unique kind,
Of symbolic,
And unbending sanctity,
A conspicuous epitome,
Of courage,
And encouragement,
As confirmed among other items,
By the pain,
You endure in labour,
But not minding,
To go through it,
Again and again,
And again.
Man,
Can only imagine how it feels,
To carry an unknown live object,
In your body,
In the darkest,
And most precarious waters,
Of humanity,
Changing your living habits,
Owing to a vacuumed unknown,
Incognizant of what to expect,
At the end of the long,
Tiresome wheelbarrow push,
A snake or a lion,
A murderer or a saviour,
A ******* or a nun,
A president or a dissident,
A Mugabe or a Mandela,
Yes,
All these,
Came out of your generous belly,
And made you to sweat,
Scream,
Writhe and wince,
In burning,
And torturous agony.
You are peripatetic,
And ubiquitous,
A convincing symbol,
Of unfailing love,
Infact,
Love personified,
You imbue pride in us,
And our children,
And a very infectious sense,
Of longing and belonging,
Mother of man,
And woman,
Mother of the station,
Mother of the ration,
Mother of the nation.
Your heart is soft,
Like your breast,
And is fraught,
With forgiveness,
And care,
Despite that,
Some of your sisters,
And daughters,
Engage in heartless,
And heinous baby dumpings,
And others,
****** our innocent,
And defenceless unborns,
Fathers,
And mothers of tomorrow.
Like us with the sun,
You fall and rise with us,
Feeding us,
And fostering us,
When we are sick,
Having sleepless nights,
When our progeny are unwell,
While we snore,
And dream of fake riches,
A literal pregnant mine,
You really are,
Rich and abundant,
In love for us,
And a very nourishing fluid,
For our young offspring,
An offspring you strive to nurture,
Even single-handedly.
But nevertheless,
We cheat on you,
And lie to you,
With absolute uniqueness,
We abuse you,
Belittle you,
And inhumanely eviscerate you,
We make you our slaves,
And regard you,
As being beings with no rights,
Nights and tights,
Days and bays,
Yet,
No matter how much,
We subjugate you,
Or how diabolic,
We treat you,
You continue to love us,
May God bless you,
On earth and in heaven.
________
“If I could have it my way, everyday would be women’s day” - Dr Noah Marutlulle
