battle hymn of the lamb

to the Godmother I had

a little lamb flocked seven continents, long champ bags in hand

napkins tucked with coupons in the zippered interior pockets

compartmentalized with eons of knowledge, intuition key to character

a warrior holding a northern light for all close to her to follow

her silence spoke peerless to the Thanksgiving turmoil, chatterboxes spewing Chinese before Happy Birthday hymns on Saturday nights, her introspection caving paths amidst dissonance

circular glasses on a soft, pointed nose, her hair curled dark against light wrinkled skin

bottles of international skincare meant youth compressed into SK-II serums bought at discounted prices - from the SOGO 2 we loved to shop at - Taipei close to home at heart

my mother considered her my consultant, myself thinking of her consideration

her balanced inquiry as to my wellbeing, achievements aligned with accomplishment, praise matched with delicate deliberation of what was to come, potential enabling an omnipotent future

herself, mindful to the motions of life and all of its actions, honing her keen eyes on the world in balance, not just the tick marks on her silver watch

all love for the people worth loving, a successful, warrior daughter

and a husband, wholehearted, cheerful with ensuring every day glee

black blouses met leather as she rested her back on cushioned chairs,

hopefully reliving the adrenaline of economical plane rides, flying thousands of miles for hundreds, dozens of days passing one at a time, checkmarks on a map optimized

she’d seen the world: all of it, truly

the skyscrapers she scoured floor by floor, plucking pictures of souvenirs

the grasslands, dirt beneath her feet, one with the wind and the flowers

and everything in between - the world her oyster, and she the pearl

through it all, the lamb learned to leap with grace, mindful of the thorns left by life beneath her

dabbing pricked wounds with lotus leaves, her making the most of what there is to enjoy

holding the ones to love close to heart, maintaining a smile through the inherent suffering

though this lamb has leapt into newer plains, she’s left a tiger here to stay

her voice echoing through the jungles, a menagerie of warrior children grown to change the world itself

never shedding a tear, the lamb remarkably made her way

humble at heart, she made peace with the predator and the prey

Published by richard (rilee) 3 years ago on Tuesday the 28th of September 2021.

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