Reflection of the Past

Dirt, caked on dark fingers
Scarred and calloused,
Bare and bruised--
The same gentle fingers
Softly braiding my hair...
Scrawled words, inked carefully
Traced slow into the paper's fold
Small, delicate words
Of an education cut short
Rendered unnecessary and left behind...

A warrior of immeasurable standard
Brave and fearless,
Unwilling to to mar the soul
With the damage of the body
But to pass on it's beauty...

The legacy of fortitude and strength
A powerful awakening
Rooted deep in the tree of life
Blossomed with the immortal flower,
And I was born of her...