Poem of the Week: A Mother to Her Daughter, Vivian Cheng

It’s been four years

since you moved out,

or has it been six?

The years don’t really matter

when you’ve lost your only daughter.

I know we were always two left feet

out there on the dancing floor,

never able to get along,

but don’t you know

that every girls’ natural enemy

is the woman who gave her life?

I know you’re with him now,

and I hope he’s treating you well.

I hope he’s taking care of you

just as well as your mama did.

I hope you know the feeling

of love rising in your breast

as you cradle your baby child

right there against your chest.

Baby girl, I want you to know

that you’re allowed to cry.

You’re allowed to have a bad day,

and I’ll still be here,

I’ll still be your support and life line.

Cry if you need me,

it’s the only number you’ll need.

Cry if you need me,

your tears the sound of my telephone ring.

If it’s your pride

that won’t let your tears fall,

I’ll still come running,

because every mother knows

the sound of her baby dying;

I hope you’ll learn this lesson

when your own baby gets old.

Cry if you need me,

and cry if you don’t.

No matter what you do,

you’ve still got your mama’s love

resting on you.