October 12, 2008
Huge, bright
Golden amber,
like lynx
fur. Naïve.

Still naïve,
with the word always bright.
Expectant eyes,
shining amber
and curiosity soft.
Just like a little lynx

kitten, not watching as we hunt like full grown lynxes.
No, those eyes are still naïve.
Those bright
don’t see fires burning amber
and the graves that make hard dirt so soft

So I’ll speak soft
to my little lynx
with no use yet for claws. Not to keep her naïve,
but to keep the world bright
in those eyes
and not to darken the amber.

Give her memories like fossils trapped in amber,
never dimming, clear and soft
like light filtered through the fur of a lynx.
Let her remember when she was naïve,
when everything was bright.
Let that light always shine in her eyes.

Someday those eyes
won’t be looking through tinted amber.
She’ll see the world clearly, and through her soft
soul, she’ll grow claws, like a lynx.
No longer naïve.
I only hope the world stays bright

in those huge, bright eyes, so amber and soft,
I hope the little lynx never looses the light in the world
I hope it’s not what makes her naïve.

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