Mother by Maya Angelou

It is true
    I was created in you.
    It is also true
    That you were created for me.
    I owned your voice.
    It was shaped and tuned to soothe me.
    Your arms were molded
    Into a cradle to hold me, to rock me.
    The scent of your body was the air
    Perfumed for me to breathe.
    Mother,
    During those early, dearest days
    I did not dream that you had
    A large life which included me,
    For I had a life
    Which was only you.
    Time passed steadily and drew us apart.
    I was unwilling.
    I feared if I let you go
    You would leave me eternally.
    You smiled at my fears, saying
    I could not stay in your lap forever
    That one day you would have to stand
    And where would I be?
    You smiled again.
    I did not.
    Without warning you left me,
    But you returned immediately.
    You left again and returned,
    I admit, quickly,
    But relief did not rest with me easily
    You left again, but again returned.
    You left again, but again returned.
    Each time you reentered my world
    You brought assurance.
    Slowly I gained confidence.
    You thought you knew me,
    But I did know you,
    You thought you were watching me,
    But I did hold you securely in my sight,
    Recording every moment,
    Memorizing your smiles, tracing your frowns.
    In your absence
    I rehearsed you,
    The way you had of singing
    On a breeze,
    While a sob lay
    At the root of your song.
    The way you posed your head
    So that the light could caress your face
    When you put your fingers on my hand
    And your hand on my arm,
    I was struck with a sense of health,
    Of strength and very good fortune.
    You were always
    The heart of happiness to me,
    Bringing nougats of glee,
    Sweets of open laughter.
    During the years when you knew nothing
    And I knew everything, I loved you still.
    Condescendingly of course,
    From my high perch
    Of teenage wisdom.
    I grew older and
    Was stunned to find
    How much knowledge you had gleaned,
    And so quickly.
    Mother I have learned enough now
    To know I have learned nearly nothing;.
    On this day
    When mothers are being honored,
    Let me thank you
    That my selfishness, ignorance, and mockery
    Did not bring you to
    Discard me like a broken doll
    Which had lost its favor.
    I thank you that
    You still find something in me
    To cherish, to admire, and to love.
    I thank you, Mother.
    I love you.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

    Poet, writer, performer, teacher, and director
M AYA A NGELOU was raised in Stamps, Arkansas,
and then moved to San Francisco. In addition to her
bestselling autobiographies, beginning with
I Know

Why the Caged Bird Sings,
she has also written a
cookbook,
Hallelujah! The Welcome Table;
five poetry
collections, including /
Shall Not Be Moved
and
Shaker, Why Doni You Sing?;
and the celebrated poem
“On the Pulse of Morning,” which she read at the
inauguration of President William Jefferson Clinton,
and “A Brave and Startling Truth,” written at the request
of the United Nations and read at its fiftieth anniversary.
Her poem “Amazing Peace” was read at the
lighting of the National Christmas Tree
in December 2005.

Copyright
©
2006 by Maya Angelou
    All rights reserved.
    Published in the United States by Random House,
an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
    RANDOM HOUSE and colophon are registered
trademarks of Random House, Inc.
    eISBN:
978-0-307-49691-1
    www.atrandom.com
    246897531
    v3.0