Maya

What it is…

To be the first generation and see

The third generation rooting

On your arm

That beautiful black haired girl baby

With lips the same as your beautiful baby

Those seventeen years ago.

Calm has descended upon her

Like a veil of harmonious succinct clarity

I am proud mother

So is she

As we welcome this entity into our fold.

Her distant calls

Borne and asking to be nurtured

She doesn’t like to have her clothes

 Off or to open her eyes much yet

When she does

It is with great irascibility

And the gentle arrogance that babies have

To love them…

And love them we do

Beautiful Maya

Legacy of stroppy feminine’s

Who will not be told what to do…

But you

Are the one that holds the torch

She is the light

Bless

And so much more than words.