vivre comme tu rêves

for nana,

how do you sum up a life?

well, you could always start with the facts-

      she was a            daughter with no complaint,

a mother        with sempiternal love,

a wife             with arms that could hold you so tight.

    she had the reddest of hair,

locks of auburn tied back with pursed lips,

and slender fingers             studded with golden rings.

her eyes had the softest haze, like            chewed out stars,

holding out her        quiescent soul in the palm of her hands-

         but there was a fire within her too,

a bonfire engraved in the shadow lines of her pupils.

she was a lover, a fighter, a joker, a reader, a tea lover-

but there is   one thing       that she has always been for me:

                                                                               a storyteller.

     there were always tales ready at the dining table,

      breakfast,            lunch,            dinner –

        and dessert too (if you’re lucky).

  her stories were like a      billet-doux to the moon,

         always shining and always there,

            raconteur     in the making,

   and you could tell she had a good life.

           because just when you       think-

         “surely she has run out of stories!”

                she brings another to light,

pulling it out of the             darkest corner of her winter coat pockets,

            out of the cupboard if she could,

and you sit there with         palms two puddles of rain

                                    while she plants roots between your toes

         and gives you a home,

  gives you something to fight for,                          to dream for,

  to take into your heart                           and say,

“this is what’s mine. these are my roots.”

and while her words turn to                     stardust in the wind,

you wait for them to carry you home,

and suddenly life doesn’t seem so bad.

“live as you dream” for dreams are meant to be lived.