Now I see her like this,
She is a child
with glistening black hair and quick dark eyes
and a mouth full of secret sass.
She is a child.
The complexities of her womanhood
the work the worry
the pain of misunderstanding
the deep well of nurturance from which she drew her compassion
offered in her shy loving way
are braided together in the gossamer wisps of her maturity.
Flung carelessly away.
Abandoned to the winds of memory.
She is a child
running in the fields of imagination
with her tiny smiling mouth open.
She chases after God in a divine game
because He has snatched up her heart
with a sly smile and a stolen kiss.
With a glance back over His shoulder
He laughs His great booming laugh
the universe convulses in joy.
And one child
with glistening black hair and quick dark eyes
and a mouth full of secret sass
reaches out with one small hand
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