Queen mother

Wrapped in the deeply certain comforts
of faith
I roll out the quilt composed of my parents’ marital garb
prostrate fully on my freshly cleaned carpet
and inhale deeply the scent of blood and time travel
the wonder of memory
the incandescent magic of kinship
I wait for you
in the moments after the clatter and rumbling
of trains across rusty tracks
and loud bells that startle a young child’s mind into fear
I see you
in the large green leaves of palm fronds
the taste of black tea and crispy brown pancakes
in the gentle tumbling of a tortoise across wet sand
claws sketching your name into my heart
And in these times you are foggy like a dream
and so deeply a part of me that I can hardly sense my self
I can hardly breathe air that does not first cross your lips,
filter through your lungs
and travel space to greet my waiting chest
I prostrate
grateful for subtle bravery
that can only be seen in hindsight;
for words that sway into my mind
heard and unheeded in my quiet rebellion;
for nimble fingers that weave warmth for a sleeping child
and aural tapestries of great white horses
and sandy shores
knowing that there can be no part of this life
untouched by the beauty of yours
Thus you continue
coming forth again as I grow into motherhood
and womanhood
leaning your soft skin against mine
seeping from my pores in memories I can hardly touch
Imprinted
Blessed
Yours