Na marama na tinaqu (My mother)

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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




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