Still I Rise (For My Son) — A Poem of Motherhood, Faith, and Redemption

Still I Rise (For My Son)

You watched me cradle you, a sugar-sweet boy,
Soft cheeks, soft prayers, my living joy.
The love God stitched inside your tiny chest
Proved Heaven real—put every doubt to rest.
But then I stumbled, cracked your heart in two,
Let shadows fall where only light shone through.
I broke the promise whispered in your ear,
And left you standing in the dust of fear.

Still, like the phoenix, I rise.
Still, like the phoenix, I rise.

When iron doors slammed shut and nights grew long,
Your letters were my only song.
You mailed me hope on paper folded tight—
“Mommy, come home.” You were my guiding light.

Out of the ashes, I rise.
Out of the ashes, I rise.

I dig each morning through the graveyard grit,
Where demons hiss and memories still sit.
Their ugly heads rear up, but I swing low,
Knees in the dirt—my fight song starts to grow.

Still, on my knees, I rise.
Still, on my knees, I rise.

Our family fractured, but the Lord spoke clear:
“Restoration waits—your son is near.”
I claim that vow with every breath I take,
Till broken pieces fit for both our sake.

Still, by His promise, I rise.
Still, by His promise, I rise.

So hear me, baby—feel these words take wing:
Your mother fights, and still she learns to sing.
The love you gave me in that cell-block gloom
Is now the fire that lifts me from the tomb.

Still, like the phoenix, I rise.
Still, like the phoenix, I rise.

Featured Image Caption

Pull Quotes

“Your letters were my only song.”

“Still, on my knees, I rise.”

“The love you gave me… is now the fire that lifts me from the tomb.”

Tags & Categories

Poetry, Motherhood, Faith & Recovery, Women’s Voices, Incarceration & Healing, Resilience, Redemption