Momma's Heart Song

Children be chasin' stones like streetlights,

The mid-afternoon slum of a yellow day,

Begins to fade into the blood red streak of last light,

Ridges of Eden etched into white smoke,

And a wriggly green thing pushes out of the bush,

Ready to snatch ya!


Life's inevitable charities loom over you,

Creekside rocking chairs echoing in the night,

The taste of fireflies blessing the sky,

Sun drops of orange dipped in twilight,

The wet smell of dirt and tall grass,

Where animals of the dark lurk, prey, and ponder,


Stomping and laughing,

Shakes the old rickety floorboards,

Turned gray by many nights as these,

Chips of white paint fly into the air and pierce used lungs,

Coughing into a sepia colored handkerchief,


The sky is fully black now,

Creatures obey the moonlight,

Humans create their own,

As wax makes its own little streak down the stalk,

And shadows dance to their own desires,

Big brown eyes reflect the fields,

Woven in them, childish dreams and hope,

They melt from the flickering flame,

Until they close completely in sweet bliss,


The night crisp but not at all nippy,

Momma's humming is heard,

Soulful sound filling your bosom with a motherly love,

A love so tender and full,

It could make you feel so completely and utterly happy,

No doubt or frustration could harm you,

Nothing could ever be broken again or lost to your vulnerable heart,

The night seems to sway to its own pleasures,

But you rest to Momma's song,

To the mending of your tired soul,

Fingers through tangled, dusty hair,


Crickets chirp in the distance,

And then, the night succumbs to utter silence,

And all that is left is the auburn light,

The rocking chair on a wrinkled porch,

And those hidden Big Brown eyes,


And Momma opens the screen door,

Then sweeps it shut,

And Big Brown Eyes absorb into soft blankets,

While Momma hums herself to sleep,

And the night becomes still. 



Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741