“A candle adorned with white flowers and a bow, a prayer, the rosary dangling the crucifix in complete form.
A veil of white, a bit of glitter at the top a white dress, white shoes, white socks my mother thought of it all, earrings to match, the flame just so. Holiness. Warmth. No fear that can be told.
My world then has stayed, wrapped with the gentle movement of people so close and dear, finding solace and strength within.
Pillars so brown and rickety galvanized iron roofs patterns undulating, creating a joyful cacophony. Rain in perfect beat and harmony with the cymbals and drums in the night and the electrifying show of light.
The bamboos creaked, palms swayed and the love, the safety, the strength of nature nurturing us all so perfect it cannot be told.
The shadows inside of us we battled any fear any pillar by each pillar where roots have grown in our spirits far and wide. The gentle swaying of yesteryears. The thunderous storm in its beauty fading behind the luminous gaiety and blocks of time.
The love and the lessons grew loud kept the cymbals, the drums, the electrifying light the creaking and the swaying of the night”