A Rose for you

You arose from the end-tail of black abuse & a rough era-an easier time to die with anger and bitterness

You concocted the art of raising me to reach my own mind & respected the church of your time and reality of your religion

A rose for you for I am not a child roaming the streets of joburg covered in a dark lie in the night-for every child has a mother and a true home. I am not afraid.

The safety of your presence is subtle and tempts me to forget the heaven you will see-the heaven that calls all mothers to its attention.

A rose for me as a young woman today & the bearer of your past-your past surely travelled through thorns-&-needles but tore the hearts of those who didn’t believe.

Your belief in my future secretly hid itself in hard labour & the drama of things to come.

And so I say a rose for you, a drum for you African queen

You quench only the thirsts of the soulful and the hopefuls

The memory of your works lives in the purest of my blood & the glow of my skin.

I have no child yet, for you Mother

But I am pregnant with your love & grace for your children
I am pregnant with belief.

By Nomfusi Xinindlu
The Collection: Whispers of the day & Monologues of Today