Nantzin

Nantzin,

Your yollotl (heart) shapes my life 

in ways I can’t fully describe in words.

even in moments my spirit felt hopeless,

when the world felt heavy, you were there—  

mi raíz, mi volcán, mi luna.

Your spirit will forever be a constant in my life.

Your love is stitched into the seams 

of my ribbon skirt, flowing in bright,

sacred winds of our ancestors.

I see you, mamà— 

not just as the woman who held me, 

but I see the niña who once needed holding too.

Your resilience speaks more than volumes,

it echos louder than winds that circle Popocatépetl.

You rise, again and again, 

like volcanoes do— 

quiet sometimes, but never still. 

One day, I hope to give you the sun in return— 

to place it in your hands like Tōnatiuh’s blessing,  

to show that every ray of light I reflect on the world

is because of you.

Feliz Día de las Madres por adelantando, nantzin. 🩷 🪶