What a joy it is
When into the past you look
Walking through clouds of dust
Seeing a blessing of the earth so vast
That her day at best was always a fast.
Reliving the African motherly day

Which one day would be her day?
When everyday was her toil day
What day would my heart hail?
When every day through hell I drove her.
An African Mother’s Day, a lifetime sorrow trail.

What’s in a day for a special woman?
Whose life is sequestered by ungrateful man?
Can’t I in a day let her sorrows flow down?
And let the sonorous tears flood the river of pain
For just a day in a year she can remember the dawn.

Take her down her memory lane
She sees it all through the sauntered pane
The steam from her tears she has to fan
For the tears of joy and pain she cannot fain
On an African Mother’s day to reign.

Say hail to the African Queen
For she has, eras of sorrow weathered
From slavery to Jim Crow, from Apartheid to AIDS
Without notice she continues to stand.
Happy Mother’s, mother African.