Marie Joyce B. Negapatan

Rookie - 80 Points (Pasig City, Phil. / October 12,1984)

Dear Lord... (A Tribute To My Mom And All The Dedicated Mothers In The World) - Poem by Marie Joyce B. Negapatan

At first I thought
I had nothing at all
For my life has been
As dull as a wilted flower

And so to you
I share; my life’s lament
Dear Lord
Those days of living
In abode of silence
Where cowardice
Lurks in a mask of silence
‘Cause I never felt so brave
Facing the mocks of the society

And so I sat alone
Began to wonder
As I sought answers
To life’s many interrogations
And on this question of
“What’s the best gift you’d ever gave me
To share to the whole world? ”

As I wandered around
The immensity of this universe
A clue of what might have been before
An image of your creation
Suddenly struck out
Of my imagination
To touch the lives
Of prodigal sons and daughters

This blessing of such creation
Carrying my essence
To the warmth of her womb
The very first reflection
Of what my eyes behold

Is that of a woman
That is my dear mother.

Faint episodes of my childhood
I recall
That day I scraped my knee
From a clumsy fall
My dear mother taught me how
To stand proud and be tall
To be as tough as a warrior

But alas! For that moment
First time
Sunrise shed light to my innocence
I began to question the length
Of my father’s presence
Every time Pluto’s shadow
Looms over Apollo’s heavens

Such ambiguity
With a face of chaste
Yearning for tenderness
Lest among a thousand riddles
Of this portrait you left
Without a father’s trace
Is a soap opera unfolded
In this TV show
We called reality

But despite the oddities
This life; I have to face
After father fled one day
And never came back again
You never followed
That desperate act
Instead you blessed me
With a woman of pure motherly heart
Responsible for breathing me life
To a weakling I was

And as I spent my early years
Watching my mother picked up
The broken pieces
How I wished someday
I will
Inherit the strength
Of both a fighter and a mother
When she solely raised us
Six offsprings
From her own sweat and tears

And so despite life’s imperfections
Of a society where I belong
Still she remains
The last woman standing
Holding the flag of this family

She is indeed a fighter;
As sturdy as a hero
For she barely smiles
Without any reason
Always with a straight face
She means serious business
The tenderness in her
Hid beneath the curtains
Of yesterday’s adversities

Those deep emotions
Witnessed by the kitchen walls
And soap bubbles
Of tears; the onion skins she peeled
And concealed
Her hardships and wishful dreams
Every time she labors herself
Confined with callous hands
In a faraway land
Away from the warmth
Of her offsprings gentle hug

And there I see in her eyes
At this moment in time
Even if she’s invisible
From my naked eyes
A mirror of a loving mother
Vulnerable to pain and love
For she’s ready to shoulder
The burden of the world
All for the sake
Of her wishful dream
That is to see us all
Eventually
A not-so-perfect family
Sharing this happiness
In this life; You bestowed on us

With this dear Lord,
My word of gratitude
I openly express
For giving me countless blessings
And a mother to steer
This family’s wheel
Less than the ideal
Than what everybody wishes
But with a mother’s heart
Overflowing with love

Is the only thing I have
And will always wanted to have…


- Joyce Negapatan

- 051306
Saturday


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 14, 2006

Poem Edited: Monday, May 15, 2006


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