Na marama na tinaqu (My mother)
Sometimes I wish I looked more like Nana Her beauty requires no powder, no cream Her hair firm, a Fijian halo to her frame Strength and poise - her hallmark Dr Apolonia, Qasenivuli, Ma, Nana I know not a better woman In the everyday quiet mundane her words like the calm burning tree, whether we’re in the kitchen, around a grog bowl or in the garden. whether she's laughing with me, praying, or yelling, her wisdom builds me each time Life has spun and spun seasons through her. storms, suns and droughts all the while, she remains anchored shedding light to truth and planting truths in tomorrows so much so that I know before learning, so much so that I love without feeling and I’ve seen before looking.. one day I hope to look more like Nana