She Is

She Is

She is a mason jar on the window sill
with glass beads collected
over a lifetime,
sparkling in the sun:
A handful of wishes
all come true at once.

She is a burst of flavor,
like oranges,
vibrant, colorful;
a still life
bounding through my doors.

She is blackberry stains on my fingers,
dust on my bare feet,
and the curls weaving around my fingers.

She is a joyful choir of noise,
a whisper for no reason,
a shout of triumph,
or a midnight cry.

She brings me closer to
Heaven
and Earth
and Every Moment in between

waking
and dreams.


My daughter.