To My Sister.

 

12 years old, and your long, thin legs kick up in the air,

Cartwheeling over the grass,

The long lines of your body seem to be continually reaching towards the sky.

Oh, how I hope you will always be reaching up…

The world will try to say you aren’t beautiful…but what do they know?

Your beauty goes deeper than an ocean, more enchanting than the pearl found at the bottom.

Your eyes are as blue as pieces of the sky you are reaching for and your hands are creators, creators of all sorts of wonderful things.

Never forget that you hold the key to joy inside of you. Never forget that you can create reality from the gossamer web of  your dreams.

Fly, darling girl, fly away and show the world the beauty that you are.