The Mother's Moment

A day of celebration,
A party no less.
Friends and family had travelled across the earth,
For the young boy had righteously stepped into manhood.

Alas, thick rain torments the party goers,
To wander the gardens in escape, not today.
Watching as the weather hardened,
Water relentlessly falling from leaves to earth,
Puddles filled, reflections killed with unceasing rain.
Locking the people tightly together inside the grandiose abode,
Not even a breath to escape the conversation.

The boy knew of the fuss delivered unto him,
Preferring to steer clear of the crowds, the handshakes, the well wishes,
Happy and content he would be, alone in his bedroom.
Mother wanted this show,
He must join the parade the fanfare.

People carefully considered their small talk,
Of course they were in ‘good company’,
One must keep up appearances,
‘Business has finally picked up so we bought another’
‘Your daughter is just the image of you’
‘I have kept the weight off by cutting down my portion sizes’
As she filled her plate in a mountainous bulge of potatoes, fish, bread and beans.

Mother called for son and husband.
Time now for her,
‘My son, you have done us proud today,
You will go out into the world and continue to do us proud’

For that is what is intended of us surely,
To do our very best,
At all times,
Never really understanding what the very best may entail.

‘Thank you, thank you and most of all thank you’ mother continues
The limelight still shines,
Tears trickle down cheeks.

The people are silent as mother captures
The attention of every last person.
I have always been amazed,
At the way she is able to command the room.
People stop and listen,
They believe that her heart is open,
She treads the right path,
Delivers the right words,
At the right times,
People listen without hearing,
Possessing more than these people will ever hope to obtain.
Fortitude in she,
Aware of the game she created,
Mother plays on.

The boy witnesses his mothers strength,
Sanctimonious pride in her family,
‘Look at what I have created’ she says proud -
without even uttering a single word.

‘This is a celebration’ she cheers,
‘My celebration,
You have all bore witness to it,
- It happened.’

Author's Note

different writing style to what I am used to

Reviews

[Chris]

Such a sting within the tones... unceasing salt rain down cheeks to pool in the memories. Not all perceptions of the same events are equal - regardless or perhaps because of ...which side of the voices we are.

Time capsules are what we sometimes are...

[KWP]

nicely read ... not many see which angle I am coming from - thanks Chris xx

[Kathy Van Kurin]

KWP,
"The Mother's Moment"
I found myself feeling that a mother should be proud of her children's accomplishments as I read this. You somehow wrote this with a different twist.
Guests come from far with a rainstorm. The focus must be elsewhere for the guest of honor? only wants to hide-escape what is expected of him before the eyes of all.
It's almost like she wants to shame him. I don't know....this was really sad to read. Couldn't help but think about real life and the temptation that exists in families; moms and dads to forget that their children need to grow and flourish without undue strings attached; that is to much pressure to perform and be lost in the process.
Great one again.
Kathy

[Matching Socks]

Very much like weddings are a show for ' the family '.
If I could do it all over again...
Great write my dear.

[NoelHC]

As is often the case, the 'star' of these shows is a reluctant one, and it is actually done for the pride of someone or to impress others. You describe that well here.

[R Smith]

the son's moment, the boy's time to be acknowledged! NO! its mother's moment, she dictate's play and drives the whole affair to adore her, I like the way early on the forces of nature kick her party to be locked behind closed doors, a kind of justice but self congratulation will out and the boy is cast aside to let the gathering wallow in the glory of his mother, A great poem KWP and oh so true in this day and age, marvelous writing bravo :)

[Simran Kewlani]

I love this.
Any poem poem, when based on mother, is beautiful. Be it bad. I love it though. It's an amazing write. I like the way you write. (:

[KWP]

Thanks chick ... I don't think the mother is bad, it is all she knows. This could well have been the way she saw life as a kid and simply replicated it. Life is funny, we all have our lessons, but how many are aware of what those lessons are ?

[Simran Kewlani]

Yeah. Life is just another book. If we writers, begin to write something on everyday of our life. The pages might fall short. There is so much to life even if somebody has turned 80. Life is like a synonym for surprise now, I suppose?

[KWP]

You are an amazing soul xx

[Simran Kewlani]

Hehe thank you. xxx

[redflutterby]

While it would seem to be the sons day...it is the mother who takes center stage. Reminds me of how some make their childrens most significant moments into their own grandiose celebrations which over shadow the child. Those parents forget its not about rigidly posed pictures or how many not so close friends show up...its about watching their child shine in thier success. Another wonderful poem...;-)

[KWP]

you have read this in the exact way in which was intended -- yay you --- yay me :) thanks chick once again for taking the time to read x x love x x

[Anand Sehgal]

Thematically very nice, but I would suggest a change in the background colour. It did not go well with me !
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[KWP]

Haha ok .. Thanks ... !

[A. Amos]

Again a master piece a beautiful subject and you have crafted very well. Congrats