In Our Mother's Honor

I stare in the mirror to a Black-woman's work

A work sculpted in her womb for her man's glory


A work which symbolizes their very own love story


A work which began with hi my name is


Or a simple how can I help you


Such innocence


Who knew that I was the full divided evenly within them


A soul awaiting to be born to them


A male child who would need a Black-man's mind to think


A male child who would need a Black-woman's heart to feel

This time I approached the mirror even closer


Closer to see pass my own reflection


Right there and then I remembered


I am not who I think I am


I am not who they hold me to be


This woman's work didn't start with me


It started at a time when there was no time


She is only passing eternity unto me

Eternal life which I would pass on to my own children


Now if this isn't love then you don't know what love is























A father might see the tears of his child free falling


But it would take a mother to understand the meaning of


So here you and I stand

This woman's work


This woman's pain


Her pride, joy and grace


She should be able to rest and lay her body down


Heaven knows that she has played her part truly


Her promise to the world of a new day


Has been delivered through you and I

Bleed the night sky and call her bluff


Forever will not know you better


Her seasons will not change you


If you are indeed frozen in time


The Black-woman is the mother of all women


Her work is evidential in all the races


So come white, yellow, red or blue


Came one, none or all the same


For whatever is recorded in history


Began in the womb of a Black-woman