I remember the sun.
Its warmth welcomed me outside, like you both did that morning.
The kites soared higher than I thought possible
And the laughter of the children rang in the air.
I stumbled outside with my Pooka clutched tight in my paw.
And I was happy.
I remember fire.
The strangers brought it with them; it ate up our houses.
They chased our people with claws and teeth bared
And the screams of terror echoed through our village.
I squeeze my Pooka close to me and whimper.
And I was frightened.
I remember teeth.
The long sharp daggers that glinted in the light of the flames.
Before they could strike, Baba stopped them
And told you to take me and to run.
I loosen my grip on my Pooka and I lose him.
And I was terrified.
I remember snow.
As we run into the wood, it flies so thick that it blinds me.
I see one of the strangers; the one Baba hit with his hammer
His eye is missing, but he and his teeth close in.
I turn to you as you dodge their lunges.
And I was worried.
I remember you.
We stopped running from the strangers, you put me in a bumpy box.
I start to cry, but you comfort me like you always do.
I take your hand and smile and you do the same
While tears escape your eyes, you turn and run into the night.
And I was sad.
I remember now
You led the strangers away to save me.
I know you loved me, you always did and you always will.
In saving me, you saved the future savior of my home
I became the warrior everyone waited for.
And I am at peace.
