Poets' Corner: Feela For Mother's Day

Mother’s Day was first suggested in 1872 by Julia Ward Howe (who wrote the words to the “Battle Hymn of the Republic”) as a day dedicated to peace.

In 1907, Philadelphian Ana Jarvis began a campaign to establish a national Mother’s Day. She persuaded her mother’s church in Grafton, W.V. to celebrate Mother’s Day on the second anniversary of her mother’s death, the second Sunday of May.

After establishing Mother’s Day in Philadelphia, Ana Jarvis and her supporters wrote to ministers, businessman, and politicians around the U.S. promoting the idea of a national Mother’s Day. They were successful, and by 1911 Mother’s Day was celebrated in almost every state. In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed Mother’s Day a national holiday.

Some countries, including Australia, Belgium, Denmark, Finland, Italy, and Turkey, also celebrate Mother’s Day on the second Sunday of May. But other countries of the world celebrate their own Mother’s Day at different times throughout the year. In the U.K., “Mothering Sunday” is celebrated on the fourth Sunday of Lent. Traditionally on Mothering Sunday, servants were encouraged to spend the day with their mothers, taking a special “mothering cake” as a tribute.

Mothering cakes. Flowers. Chocolate. Things in big boxes. Things in small boxes (even better). Telluride Inside… and Out offers a simple tribute in the form of a poem by regular contributor David Feela, whose latest book, “Little Acres,” was recently released by Unsolicited Press. Find more on the treasure of a book here. Feela’s words celebrate Mother Nature as we celebrate moms in general.

Postage Due

When my mother said
“The check is in the mail”
she meant what I’m looking for
is no longer in her hands,

there’s nothing left to do.
And sometimes she meant too bad,
right now I’m just out of luck.
Occasionally her answer

came out wordlessly
like an indirect glance,
as if by staring at her feet
I could see she knew exactly

what I wanted to know.
Every day envelopes
crackled like dry leaves
as postal employees pushed them

into our letterbox.
Standing beside the trash
I watched as she shuffled the mail
like a deck of cards before

handing a few of them to me.
No, no, not that one either.
The check is
and the check is not in the mail.

Now I’m sure what she meant is
eventually all will be delivered
if hope is in your heart
and you have the patience to wait.

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Susan Viebrock

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