My mother’s tongue effortlessly danced
With the syllables and rhythms of her mother tongue,
Her voice, gentle like whispered secrets,
Revealed a depth of love.
Words gracefully composed;
I heard melodies when she spoke,
Symphonies of hope as her gentle cadence
Loosened the burdens of the world.
Life and death are in the power
Of a mother’s tongue,
A child’s heart can be cradled, crumpled, cut,
Or caressed by the choruses that their mothers sung.
Today, the waters were troubled
I struggled to stay afloat,
My legs barely kicking,
My arms fatigued from the pressure of the current.
In desperation, engulfed by the waves,
I called her name and waited and waited.
I eased my eyes shut,
Just as one closes a book, its story completed, never to be revisited.
My mother told me to speak,
And in that moment, I froze,
Home has always been her voice.