When I'm hit hard by truth more than lies
she becomes a velvet cushion to smoothen me
When am blown away by my emptiness more than the wind
she's a pile of feathers to prepare my landing to safety
When I'm scorched to the marrow by the merciless fireball
she's a light drizzle to cool me
When I see no life for myself
she offers her heart to me
mama is a wet red rose
in a dry and infertile land

© Andayi Festus