Sunday, November 21, 2010

Pure Poetry

As we were flying home in early October I remember catching a glimpse of her busily writing away. I remember it I smiled quietly to myself while making a concerted effort not to peer at her private words...knowing she was scribbling away some inner thoughts she would tuck away to keep for herself...even though I wanted to read them more than anything.

Fast forward to yesterday morning. I will never forget the way I felt as I was wiping away the salty tears and stumbling through those very intimate October thoughts...realizing they were about me...and I couldn't believe the gift I was receiving...wondering, even now, how I became so blessed.

Matching my pictures to her words was easy. Putting into prose my own thoughts about this magnificent young woman I am so fortunate to call my daughter who exposes my heart unlike any other....isn't so simple. But I hope I have honored her the way she has me.

Snappy apples that bite
like the breeze that fingers
her hair around smiling cheeks

Do you smell the leaves?

Leaves that float and fall
like dreams heavy with hope
and sparkling in the sun.

She's so perfectly beautiful
with her mix and jumble of colors.

Colors like spice and fire
that burn and dance
deep in her chest.

Colors like buttery
angel wings that whisper
flecks into her patient eyes.

Her laugh tumbles
from the treetops and twirls
like a song through the forest.

Tucked between the rustling
tree's ornaments you feel
the time slipping.

Feel the longing to zip the
moments up in wax paper
and never let them go.

I will always have her
picture and she will
always have my heart.

Taste and leaves and
fear and fruit will always fade
but I will always be her daughter.

A. Smith
October 2010