Oh When The Saints...

I simply stopped speaking about it once it ceased to sound triumphant
Trumpets don’t sound for mothers who work 12 hour days
Battle on high ways / to chauffer children born of their breast
To opportunities to be their best
Delivered upon the doorsteps
of their dreams …
Not because we believe
dreams do come true
But because children do
And we believe in our children.

Trumpets don’t sound for high heals in snow storms
Making it to the pump 5 miles after E
Or balanced check books
No horns will be heard for clean dishes or mornings without argument in a home that houses teenagers, smile from boys becoming men, or tears for the mothers who love them

Symbals don’t clash for lack of revolt,
held tongues, They don’t
assemble the drum line
for the hundred times
you regret who you open your heart to

Piano keys won’t appease at the fact you still do.

I stopped speaking about it
Because paychecks, sagging breasts, and little to no rest - couldn’t attest to my survival
The everyday trial
didn’t sound so much like a war cry
As it did a slow sigh / at the alarm clocks warning.
Mornings /
filled with finding the least dirty thing at the bottom of the laundry pile
Doesn’t quite strike me as accolade worthy of applause.
Nor does the back strong enough to hold a millions straws…

No standing ovation for infinite patience
No violin or hymns for ‘not a moment wasted’
No trumpets
No trumpets for every day heroes

Warrior of the work load
Barer of the burden, keeper of the secret – this song is for you
This is for the ugly truth
Those who are scared to tell it, but still do
This for the early bird AND the worm, this is for knowing it’s your turn
And taking it
This is for faking it UNTIL it FEELS real
This is for hating every moment
And showing up ANYWAY

This is for NOT calling your EX pathetic and just LETTIN IT
This is because they gave you your kids, and THEY are the best thing you EVER did

This is for putting the bottle down -
This for barer of the bus pass,
The treader of the least taken path
and the checker of the spelling homework and the math

Sister of sovereignty, Do over veteran
Champion of begin again
Soldier of the second wind


It is triumphant - even if they say it aint
And I will blow my trumpet for your day to day

Just for being here

“Oh when the saints / go marching in / oh when the saints go marching in / oh how I want to be in the number . when the saints go marching in “