A poem about Mother, dedicated to all the women that take up the walk of life, called motherhood.

The First moment of Courage
Who will defend them?
The calling was extended,
without formalities;
long before the blood and labor.
when one day, the world would denounce

this berth as joyous, and that heated day was soon.
She struggled with remonstrance,

then came to and said,
“I defend this one.”
Peering at her, the advocates, callously asked,
“What has this object, to your favor?
“It has no strong limbs, no common denominator.”
She corrected the evil and said
“No, not an object, of any mere chance,

but a Being, divine.”
"It moves and its' heart beats and it has a free will, not of mine."
“I am protector; I've been assigned."
The angry voices stirred, hardly settled, like dust
They sneered with strange confidence
that cankered, like rust.
She stood against the powerful reigns and winds,
as they pulled and they pryed.
Clawed at her womb, mocking her diligent pride..
With her head held high,
she repeated to herself, as the women before
"I will save them, from these storms."
Then with all her courage, she did just that.
The multitudes jeered and they scoffed.

“Who are you, to carry that much power?”

She answered with conviction,

"I am called, Mother."

She said it so softly,

though, it fell like Thunder.
The bullies they shook, then divided asunder.

~by Mary Tuihalangingie
copyrighted 2008