Mama

A dusky floral whisper- oud -

caressing, lovingly kissing my nose,

And holding me nestled in the folds

worn, dark cerulean hues,

Of blue fabric. That is my first memory of Mama.

She is reason to my childish fun.

But adventurous to my moody calm.

Comfort, laying right on top of you,

heartbeat, steady, true, my guide beneath

Indeed, paradise lies under her footsteps.

Mama,

The tide of age, of time, of hardship

has not dulled but refined your

lighthearted spirit, tempered into a strength

That brings ease to my heart.

Uncomplaining, undaunted, unbroken

the world’s greatest athlete.

She is Olympic. My first and my last best friend.

In a sea of swaying fabric, she is my steady thread.

Mama.