“If” by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
https://poets.org/poem/if

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Mother to Son

By Langston Hughes

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor—

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a-climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you turn back.

Don’t you set down on the steps

’Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now—

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Langston Hughes, “Mother to Son” from The Collected Works of Langston Hughes. Copyright © 2002 by Langston Hughes. Reprinted by permission of Harold Ober Associates, Inc.

Source: The Collected Works of Langston Hughes (University of Missouri Press (BkMk Press), 2002)

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I started motherhood with every good intention

My heart and soul brimmed with hope and love and vision

Each day it dwindled through

Loss of jobs

Loss of apartments

Confusion and disillusion

Despair and self pity

I wondered about Elohim’s vision for my life

I worried over my sons ability to keep breathing through the night

I angered over my sisters, mothers and friends lack of love and concern for my sons

I blazed against the fathers who made these little humans and blithely walked away

I put on the mantle of bravery and soldiered on

Through fevers and emergency visits

Through ear infections and runny noses

Through potty trainings and lost baby teeth

Through well baby visits and taking care of belly buttons and circumcisions

Through empty gas tanks and the use of the last diaper

Through horrible baby sitters

And hungry winters

Through welfare appointments

Through child support hearings

Through homelessness

Through car-lessness

Walking miles and miles

Crying tears upon tears

Laughing with joy upon jubilation

Then in the balance of time…

I saw the sons grow up and go away

All that time has led today

Memories of torture and joy

Memories of great hope and great loss

When the pain was so great I thought life had to give way to death

Yet life persisted

Today I soldier on

A little slower

A bit bolder

Firm in my Faith

Secure in my Hope

Confident in my Strength

Resigned to rising anyway in every day given

Moving ever forward

Moving ever onward

In anticipation of what life will show me in each moment

Every nanosecond I savor the aroma, taste, and supplication of life.

This is the Song of The Black American Mother.

by Coletha Yvette Albert

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Today, I heard the laughter of children

My heart soared…

I hear the sounds of sea gulls flying overhead

I watch the drakes gathered quietly looking and waiting…

I see the squirrels sitting, staring as they steadfastly nibble

There are the bunnies crouching like statues

As Kitten saunters by sniffing grass but not seeing the rabbits

I pretend not to see them too…

There are no pigeons here thanks to the hawks

There are no chickens here to scratch and to squawk

But this time of the year

When the grand babies are near

There is the crescendo of the symphonic sounds of their joyous laughter

It strikes my soul and reminds me of what life is about

Being carefree, protected, taught, and embracing the simple little things

I remember when my sons laughed

I recall when my sons grinned with joy

I ruminate when my sons jumped in happiness

I recall when their eyes sparkled in surprise and amusement

I remember when they laughed until they rolled around on the floor

I ruminate when I used to toss the football to them while the laundry was being done

I remember when I used to walk around the field track as they played basketball together

I recall that they are grown and gone now

But all around me today are the laughter and anticipation of grand babies

These are my precious gifts today.

Gifts for Grand Mommy Today by Coletha Yvette Albert

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Notes to the Terrible Son

You didn’t break my heart

You set me free.

The Terrible Son by Coletha Yvette Albert

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What about the prodical son? Well, it was his Father who saw him from far off, not his Mother.

A Father is wise enough not to compete, put down or harm his sons.

A Mother is wise enough that when a son forsakes her, she gracefully lets him go.

Leave your comments below if you are in the Raising Sons Only Club!

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