Absent are the words of good man trying to write a verse or two without the deeds of his mother. Nonexistent are the words written by an old radical without the gift of birth by his good mother. All the motorcycles and all the dancing women can’t hold a candle to the voice of my sweat mother calling from Alabama. I do love you mother. The soft words of my beautiful wife as she whispers goodnight to our children are as powerful as a lion taking on the jungle on any given night and I love all the mothers that know that they are a gift from God and a thorn in the devil’s side. Hang your learned heads high today and tonight all you mothers of the world and accept this stranger’s weak jester of thanks for all the healed bo bos, and mashed potatoes, forehead kisses, chicken dinners and more, Nameste.