I still sit where tides hum beneath golden glow,
beside the sea, where softest memories reappear,
recalling walks beneath palm fronds that ebb and flow,
above small crabs on driftwood draped in seaglass cashmere.

With small hands in her hands, as calm as moonlit bay,
led by a siren’s serenade from conch shells that sang
We hunted treasures gifted by our ocean’s spray—
jewels to frame how mother-daughter dreams began.

And trade winds would dance, teasing our skirts with glee,
crowning our braids in pink sands and coral lace,
humming their soft secrets through the coconut trees,
blessing our departure in twilight’s embrace.

So here I sit, where Mom and I once laughed in foam,
the hush of restless waters still speaks to me
Each breaking tide becomes her voice, intoned—
oh Mother, thank you for these honeyed memories.

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Lia D. Elen, Jamaican poet, artist and mythmaker of Taíno and Maroon descent, bridges ancestral memory with modern craft. A full stack developer by profession, she finds her truest voice by the shoreline, where spirits, wind, and water shape her verse. Her work seeks to remind us that the unseen currents of consciousness, love, and imagination are the tides that continue to shape the living world.