My Woman, My Maker

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everyone has one
everyone knows one
whether you know them
appreciate them
or care to ponder their existence
they care about you
naturally keen to nurturing
and always lending a hand
in encouraging
they are the winds of change
upon the decadent heart of man
sensual and slatternly
it pumps sperm and hormones
in and out an overstimualted world
without them, we’d all be dead
unkept and without proper bread
these ones take the first step to see
children are looked after
at home or abroad
we are neighbors to all
and I think they grasp that best
both adult and youth
are told we’re alike
but that’s far from true
completely unique
motivations rarely in sync
her dream could be my dream
but I’m afraid to admit I came from her
without her, I wouldn’t exist
I lose a hint of hubris
but gain an eternity in respect
for a body not made to be gazed on
in pornograhic desire
but to be appreciated, and if in matrimony
be lifted even higher in regard
because without my woman
men could not go far
they are our creators, and our caregivers
they teach us, correct us, embolden us
the first eyes I gazed upon
entering a blistering new world
the first and only voice
I’ve ever truly heard
I love my women
in ways no man will ever know
because without the courage
to be humble to those above
how can your supposed love
ever show

 

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