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The Little Creature
Sunrise consists of lavender lids poised on soft snow,
And, for the third time in the past minute, I call to the tiny creature.
Sun finally takes stage, and in a flutter of wing-like lashes,
Lavender peels back to reveal blue, as clear as the sky.
Her tiny brows collide together, like two crashing cars.
An attempt to look threatening fails.
Pat, Pat, Pat. Two of the smallest feet struggle under sleep,
The rhythm of these two feet sings of defeat,
As she slumps her tiny body into the form of the kitchen table’s seat.
Her anger disappears as soon as it appeared, like falling stars.
The course of ordinary begins as normal.
Questions come along with the pancakes,
And the range spreads like melted butter.
The first of course is, “Where is Daddy?”
But you know the answer. It is Friday. Today he works.
It’s our day.
As our day progresses, questions are reborn into ideas.
How you manage to see light in everything that crosses your path,
I will never know, nor understand.
And how you seem to question everything,
Including the obvious.
Little Creature of mine, how you intrigue me!
How can such a tiny dream find so much amazement,
In a single ant?
Or tell a tale as long as the Odyssey,
From a single rain cloud?
And with a heart as beautiful as the open sea,
And as vast and unending as the desert.
You have wisdom, that even as simple as it is,
surpasses my own.
Finally you pause, but only to draw in a breath.
You ask to hear a story.
Your favorite is how your father and I met.
But it’s time for a new story.
One of how much a mother can adore her daughter.
How one beautiful little creature is utter perfection.
Like a diamond. And my dear baby girl,
How I thought of you before you came.
My dear daughter, never forget how much I adore you.
You make life an adventure, and in such situations,
I must learn to be the student.
And you must grow to be the teacher.