Three years ago, the sun fell low,
The world grew quiet, my heart cloaked in snow.
Winter's breath stole you away,
Leaving shadows where you used to stay.
Grief carved rivers in my soul,
A tide relentless, hard to control.
Yet from the darkness, I chose to rise,
To seek the dawn, to claim the skies.
One year ago, I took a vow,
Pen in hand, a sacred plow.
To till the soil of loss and pain,
And grow a garden in your name.
Each word I write, a seed of light,
Each page, a star to pierce the night.
Your voice, a compass, guiding me,
Through winter's storm to clarity.
The solstice marks the longest night,
Yet promises the coming light.
In death, you taught me how to live,
To love, to dream, and always give.
Mom, your legacy burns in my chest,
A fire that will not be suppressed.
I carry your strength, your grace, your fight,
And turn my grief into sacred might.
Today, I honor what you began,
Your courage, your laughter, the touch of your hand.
Through me, you live, in every line,
A phoenix rising, fierce, divine.
Winter’s chill may bite my skin,
But spring blooms softly from within.
Three years since you became the sky,
One year since I began to try.
And though the sun dips low again,
Your love, like daylight, will not wane.
This solstice, I embrace my role—
Your legacy keeper, my heart made whole.
What a wonderful tribute to a remarkable woman. Much love for a perpetual, robust garden to celebrate all that your mom represented.