mama
It is the quite longing in the heart of a man, to dwell in peace with the woman who bore him
To know her not only as a mother but as a sanctuary
There is a sacredness to her voice when it finds you in the middle of a weary week
Calling not for news but to remind you that you are remembered in her prayers, that heaven hears your name because she has whispered it there, and if fortune has smiled upon you, still you are counted among those who receive gifts
From the soil, bananas ripe with sun, avocadoes softened by rain arrowroot pulled from the earth with care, you know that these are not mere offsprings of food, they are sacraments the breath of the village travels with them
In every bite, the wings once passed through childhood trees returned to your lungs, you chew slowly knowing your mother is a fortress of 'GRACE' quietly standing watching over the life she once carried.
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