Monday 16 March 2015

Mama pray for me

They are like a soothing massage,
good music to the soul.
They are frighteningly comforting 
and offer a healing hospital beds can not,
a feeling only success knows.
I liken them to a hidden compass in within us,
that finds us when we are lost
and guides us when we are confused.
They are like a blanket to us,
to keep us warm while the night owl howls,
and to cover and protect us from 
the wearies of the night.
They're like a book with pages full of wisdom,
an understanding of the literature of our minds.
They are like a key to doors closed before us,
that silently urges us to keep trying,
to never quit.
They are like the best well-kept secret 
to a fulfilling life, and no, 
I'm not talking about the holy grail,
the Philosopher's stone or something we can't find,
I talk and speak of Mama's prayers.

They grow you when you're young,
feed you when hunger strikes,
they quench the thirst in your pursuits,
and offer sound reasoning in your doubts.
Because when Mama prays, everything falls into place.
She understands your being as she is the reason for it,
she loves you with an understanding to a life she is part of,
she's cared for you before and knows your worth.
She has seen you cry, she knows what you've feared before,
she's seen you at your best and at your worst,
she knows what winning is to you and what losing can do to you,
and most importantly, she's done it before,
she's prayed for you so many times before.

That's why I want you to pray for me Mama.
I want the fragrance of your prayers to speak for me,
I want the emotions you so easily express to speak on my behalf.
I need to feel the reassurance of your words as you speak favour upon my life.
I want to know you still believe in what I can achieve,
I want to know you still see that shine in me,
I want to know you're still grateful for this far we've come,
I want to know you still pray and magic happens;
Mama pray for me.

Pray for me and it'll wash clean my car
and grease up the engines in my life.
Pray for me and it'll clean up my room
that is full of doubts, confusions and unpreparedness,
all scattered on the floor.
Pray for me and it'll do the laundry,
for my clothes are full of dirt and shame,
mistakes and ignorance I picked up
growing up in this world you brought me into.
Pray for me and it'll do my chores,
it'll get the heavy job done for me.
It'll set me back up on the trail to my destiny.
It'll breathe fresh air back into my lungs
and cleanse me of all impurities I've inhaled.
Pray for me and restore me onto the right track, mama.
I run a race that needs your blessing,
bless me with a prayer, mama.

You will always be special to me,
even when am far and away,
in journeys only the walls of your prayer room know,
I'll remember of the nights you spent awake for me,
I'll treasure the prayers you taught us
before we could stand for ourselves,
I'll remember you prayed and I'm here,
you prayed for me before you even had me,
and I'll remember even in pain you prayed for rain,
when we cried out hunger, you prayed for food,
when we did things wrong, you prayed for wisdom.
You prayed for everything,
and we live today because on your knees,
you prayed for our well-being.

I want you to pray for me, mostly because,
God hears you better,
and you know this better...
Mama, pray for me.





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