On the day we said goodbye to mama I awoke at 3am
I wrote, “She had three daughters” because I couldn’t sleep
And prayed her spirit, my soul to keep
Like when Elisha expressed his wish, though, I did not watch her taken.
I wrote to keep “the crazy” outside my silly head
Writing helped me realize she’s still here in us even though she’s dead
So I simply passed it on in verse or was it prose?
Mom’s pastor read aloud the tribute to my mother
Later he noted I had my mother’s gift, a well-meant compliment
Still I could not help but laugh inside
The gift wasn’t hers but our fore mothers, long coded in our DNA be it native or European
Producing Zealots, Huguenots, Quakers, Abolitionist poets,
Gospel lyrists, orators’, against such history I pale in compare
On which strand it is written I have no idea but it’s something terminal
But know its there sure as MC1R for red hair or EYCL1 for sky blue eyes
In our basic family polygenic traits. (Try getting that in a poem! i.e.… I AM great.)
I might add teachers, professors, artists, musicians and those with a scientific aire
And before it was written into our code to express our ideas (what lovely pushy lot!)
As stewards of the master each one given talents but these gifts are God’s only on loan to be wisely managed
My baby sister smiled and said, “He just had no idea” still the thought was sweet
I came home only to find my own child posted “ Zelda” a poem celebrating her daughter’s first birthday
Stopping word crafting would be like trying to give up breathing
No wait it doesn’t stop there! Confirming my own belief in WdCRftp1-DNA
Copyright~ LGHurcomb 10 April 2011
A poet who went before me~ My maternal grandmother Alta June Warren @ age 16