The light

Silently slicing through the air with little to no effort 

Dreams fading into an abyss that once was illuminated 

The dreams often deferred in hope of a better future for the next 

Wasting away was never the goal but it became the reality

Rising every morning like the sun and quietly providing light and warmth

Just like the rings in an old oak tree the entire story has yet to be revealed.

Now I rise Maya Angelou vibes 

The motivation obvious

My mother being the sun

She being the center of it all

The rings she has tells a story 

My mother is my Maya Angelou she is the light that still rises