My mother, my matriarch.
Memories of holding your hands.
My haven in the dark.
You're the only one who understands.

Hands so soft and slender,
wiped away my tears when I cried.
Comforted me, my defender.
My consolation at my bedside.

Hands that were lazy for nothing.
Holding us with love, cooking a meal.
Attend to a cut with a kid-glove, and washed our clothing.
A passionate woman of steel.

The same hands that held the Bible,
Gaining soul-food each day.
The same hands held together in prayer, praying for the impossible.
The same hands placed in the hands of the Most High, to take you away.

I love you Moeksie❤