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Pangs of Motherhood
When her womb is lacerated by the knife of treasury
life in her casts its light to expunge the darkness
because she understands the language of love;
she holds us close even when birth pangs build spurs;
even when vexed by the spasms of hatred;
her embrace dissolves unpleasant memories
like God's pardon after a prolonged purgatory;
she offers gentle guidance to us, distrout children,
about life's pains and gains; life's little eclipses;
lifts heavy boullders off our shoulders;
she fulfills promises delivered on yesteryears platforms.
