To and fro her skirt swooshes,
Her feet fly beneath her,
Her hair blows in her face,
Her smile doesn’t care,
Mothering hands give her back a push,
In a soothing tempo of repetition,
The wind whooshes beneath her,
She’s weightless,
Not of the ground or air,
But floating in between,
Dreaming of better things,
On earth and in the sky,
Eyes closed her face seeks the sun,
Its warmth finding her hopes,
Sparking a fire from its heat,
Moving back and forth,
She is eager to go,
Ready to aim for the sun,
Reach for the Milky Way,
End up near the moon’s grin,
“Careful,” her mom whispers,
“You’re not ready yet,
you’ll get hurt,”
The jump remains stagnant,
Her body stuck to the seat,
The opportunity lost,
Her desires sunk,
She drags her feet in the sand,
Slowing down her sways,
Dejectedly walking across the grass,
A cloud crosses over the sun,
And the magic is gone.