My mother dropped everything for us,
yet she landed softly in my father’s palms.
I see the safety she felt
in every word she utters about him.
I can tell
I can see
in the life he gave her,
in the home they built together.
It may have only been
eleven short years to witness
But long enough
For me to look back and know
My mother was a loved girl.
And oh, how I pray
To always land
As softly,
As gently,
As she did.
Wanja.