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In Abuela's Arms


In Abuela's arms

I am safe and home.

My nose is burried

in her black silk hair

With the smell of lavender

And vanilla near.

 

Her arms will wrap me

In an embrace cloth with memories.

Her spring air laughter

fills the air

As she stirs the pot

To cure my blues.

 

In Abuela's Arms

There is no mask I wear.

No facade or paint

Is strong enough to get past

The woman of steel 

Who bares years of war.

 

All my enduring pain

Is spilling on her shoulders.

She lifts my head

To speak on the wonders of the world

To tell me I don't compare

To the little expectations when I'm above that tier. 

 

When the stars align

I'll grab my cap.

I'll smile at the sky 

To breathe in her laughter

To smell the never-ending love

The scent of vanilla and lavendar.

 

In Abuela's arms

I am safe and home.

There is no need to escape

The blanket of remembrance

My inspiration flows in the door

She's home.

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Comments (1)

Annette M Velasquez
Strong imagery and emotion here... Nice detail and use of language. Very well- crafted! Check out my poetry when you have time... Annette Velásquez.

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