Becoming The Muse

Happy Father’s day to my mother for being the best father a mother could be.

My father rest his soul passed away when I was a young boy. I don’t remember him half as much as I would like but from the memories of those who were older to have known the man he was I learnt that he left some impressive shoes to fill and my mum manned up continued from where he left phenomenally, to raise three boys and two girls single handedly, to be kids our father would be proud to call his.

It was not the easiest of journeys made mistakes, may have fallen and scraped my knees a couple of times, but I learnt to ride a bicycle, eventually, just like I might have cut myself the first few times but I figured out the art of shaving, I haven’t ever been a fight because my mum taught me violence is never a solution, I am a lover not a fighter (and also no one ever taught me how to throw a decent punch *hides*)

If I put my mind to it I can cook just as well or better than my sisters and apparently chicks dig this.. (erm if you reading this what I mean is the chickens when you grill them properly, you know in a humane way and not just burn to crisp) from awkward birds and bees conversations to life lessons to laughter, life and everything else you handled it and I think we turned ok, better than ok, awesome and maybe a lil crazy, too it rubbed on it’s a good thing its strength, yes and faith.

Happy Father’s Day you are the man mum!

I am,

I live,

I love,

Because you loved me.

You loved me,

Before I was even here.

You held me,

Before I even had a name,

And I was never the same.

You claimed me,

With a gentle touch,

You raised me,

To be whom I am today.

With your love,

Selfless and endless,

Unconditional and unlimited,

And patient,

Enduring and everlasting,

An angel without wings,

With a hug and a kiss,

Straightening life’s curves,

Brightening the world,

With the simplest things,

I am,

I live,

I love,

Because of your love,

Your hands,

They held me.

Your hands,

They fed me.

Your hands,

They warmed me.

Your hands,

They clothed me.

Your hands,

They taught me.

Your hands,

They held mine in prayer.

Your hands,

They give without taking.

All that sacrifice and pain,

It’s a feeling I can’t explain.

A mother’s love,

for you I have,

an appreciation that knows no measure.

I am,

I live,

I love,

Because you loved me,

by you I am Blessed.