Maya

It’s crazy to me

How your words are my concrete

A foundation on which I can build my story

Yet my words

Became useless when I got the news

You leaving this world

Knocked my world off its axis

Reduced to sitting silently in disbelief

While time passed indifferently around me

Warning of my potential lateness to work

Although I vehemently assert

That you are the reason I write poetry

Your prose drew me

Excerpts in school textbooks

Pointed me to the library

To check out every book I could find

That told of your life

My girlish eyes grew bright

From documentation of life

Of love

Of empowerment

You taught me that everyone had a story

And everyone’s stories are important

My story is important

Who better to write it but me?

I wore all black to work today

Like my own mother, grandmother or aunt

I never thought you’d leave

We always think our parents and elders are immortal

Your words may ease the pain

Your immortal legacy remains

I never met you

But your words and ideas knew me

They spoke to me

Spoke of what I am and could become

Only one

Regret that I have

Is this might be poetic injustice

I am thankful for your life

I am thankful for your love

I am thankful for your words

I am thankful for your wisdom

Mostly I am thankful for you