Laniyah, a mellifluous coinage that threads the Hawaiian lani, “heaven” or “sky,” with the theophoric Hebrew-inspired suffix -yah, quietly proclaims “heavenly of God,” a meaning as weightless as cirrus clouds yet as resonant as a cathedral bell; little wonder that parents, as if guided by a gentle trade wind, have lifted it from obscurity in 1994 to a respectable zenith of No. 662 in 2010 before allowing it to glide, swan-like, through the 800s in recent years—a statistical arc that, to the dry-minded demographer, resembles a modest parabolic flight, but to the poet evokes a comet’s brief blaze across nocturnal velvet. Pronounced lah-NIE-uh, the name carries a cadence that rolls off the tongue with Iberian warmth, inviting comparisons to a lullaby whispered beneath Caribbean constellations. Though undeniably modern, Laniyah shares the chromatic palette of longer Afro-diasporic and Latin names ending in -yah—Amaliyah, Zariyah, and the like—whose final aspirate seems to exhale gratitude itself. In cultural semiotics, such phonetic architecture often signals tenderness, agency, and spiritual aspiration, qualities that render Laniyah an academic’s footnote, a storyteller’s metaphor, and, above all, a family’s daily benediction.