In the waxing moon, I lost my world. She never stood in my way, she only hold my hand, learning to walk. Loving my from a mother’s heart, she prayed for my blessings and safety.
Holding my hand watching me smile and dance, she loved me before I loved myself, in her arms always her girl, with a kiss on my forehead.
She always smiled back to me, still loved me even on days when I was not listing, still giving conferred, loving me from her mother’s heart.
She will always be in my heart, remembering the love and safety of her arms around me.
© Elke T.B. Stevens. 4/5/2020
Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens 
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