Dandelions

My mother once told me when she first moved to Canada that

She loved dandelions because they covered every inch of field she saw with an unapologetic yellow glow.

Whenever I see them they remind me of my favourite lullaby --

About sunshine and showers and times I make her happy when the skies are grey.

I painted the words on a wooden plank that faces East towards

my old home,

towards Scarborough where she lives,

towards the sunrise,

towards the magic pastel skies on quiet happy mornings.

I grew up feeling like she knew me before I knew myself,

with every change of paint in my room from mint to periwinkle to blue with brown stripes.

She supported my every change of heart and change of mind,

accepting every new idea

even when she didn't agree or understand.

They said I'm every colour of the rainbow because I loved a him and I loved a them,

but she looked at me and said with her whole heart,

"Anak, you are every colour because you are you".

Because dandelions are my favourite flowers,

and periwinkle is my favourite paint,

because I fill my home with plants of every shade of green,

and my plate with every kind of food.

Because I love who I love

and I emit rainbows when I do.