For my child, Lillian
Today she is a hummingbird.
Yesterday, she was merely a nestling,
Plump and downy.
But today she is a hummingbird, wings expanded.
She lifts herself an air of grace
with 80 flits per second.
She’s a little opalescent glowing flutter
that in a second, teaches me
80 different ways to practice mindfulness.
She makes me feel like
I will carry my head up high for a lifetime,
that even if the temples of my head
were like primary elements,
I could sustain an atomic mass equal to
all the burdens she’ll ever know.
I’ll never break down.
Tomorrow she’ll be a sun-kissed flowering earth.
There are seeds under her tongue.
She’ll speak and my world can do nothing but break open.
With her little hands she’ll make clay out of abandoned fears
and I’ll watch as she expands the land,
while she tells me stories.
She’ll reveal to me what the rivers whisper,
how they change the finale with every ripple
but the moral is always the ocean,
a hallowed space,
where wonder and beauty are the currents.
I’ll never lose faith.
I’m stunned with quiet admiration.
This makes her laugh a gust of wind
that tousles her hair, tresses of sun rays.
Her arms raised above her starry crown,
She stirs the atmosphere into a sparkling heaven.
Her smile becomes a Spring day,
and she plants a field of wild flowers in my chest,
just because she loves me.
I’ll never lose ground.
Today she is wise,
she grows water lilies
in the ponds behind her ears,
bundled memories, the most beautiful surfacing.
She says if I think bad things, bad things will happen.
She says even when there are no signs, there is still meaning.
She says she doesn’t like change.
Today she is brave,
she loves the uncertainty of softball,
she saves stories for me when I am gone,
She learns from my quiet nature.
Life as a cosmos of actuality was kismet,
Everyday a new journey.
Today I am brave, because I love her.