My Mother's Existence
She is my Mother.
Ironically, my mother calls her Mother.
My father and friends call her Mother.
My Grand and Great-parents call her mother.
Everyone calls her Mother.
They do not call her "MOTHER" for nothing.
She birthed ALL.
But the irony is that some of her CHILDREN are older than her.
Some people from another came our family
And claimed they discovered her before her existence.
And told us that, some of us, are older than her.
And then gives her a day for her birthed existence.
An age given by her neighbours.
She was also named by them.
She accepted everything in good faith.
She has legs that can travel.
But she cannot walk or travel.
But we, her children can run away from her.
Yet, she freely allows us to go.
And on some occasions, she holds us back.
She cannot die.
But, we can die.
And when we die,
we are buried in her belly.
She produces all kinds of food for us.
And yet, she cannot eat.
Some, she gives us freely,
And some, we till her, before we can get it.
She does not get annoyed, and when she does, everyone suffers.
You can insult her and backbite her.
She would still call you her Children.
Instead, her children fight themselves just for their siblings insulting her.
She keeps crying every day for our death.
If only our siblings and neighbours would listen.
My mother, you are great.
For I have so many things about you, dearest mother.
But, accept my little gift.
Bless the fruits of my hands.
Make me prosper, and keep me away from troubles.
And keep this my little gift with you
My Dearest Mother.
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