Sunlight streaming,
piercing closed shades,
a painful reminder of a new day.

Weakness in the bones,
stricken by metal and stone,
mind beaten down,
by howling winds.

A true story told,
father and son,
a story so old,
God only knows.

Soon the cold creeps in,
ice water in the veins,
reminded again,
of the avaricious and bold,
false actions of men.

Just then,
a young girl walks in,
face so young,
her soul so old,
warm glints of sunshine,
shown kindly on shimmer locks.

A fresh dish of water,
a spring in her step,
as though heaven set her pace,
chasing winter from an old man's face.

The cleansing of skin,
a mother’s soft embrace,
wounds re-wrapped and retold,
winces replaced,
a twinkling in its place.

It is okay to sigh,
to dream and reminiscence,
but don’t lose your sight,
God loves you child,
this is not your punishment.

Eyes wide open,
tilted towards the sky,
twinkle therein,
laughing softly as constellations die.

Star after star,
falling from the sky,
each tethered to a soul,
vanishing as they die.

Beautiful face,
expressive and perceptive,
lively and lovely,
a Mona Lisa in your own time.

Star after star,
falling from the sky,
laying back against blades of grass,
and though the these blades are dull,
they press against you sharply,
a reminder of the fact that everyday children die.

Shaken to the core,
tears well up inside,
letting yourself go,
not a spirit in sight.

Journey just begun,
step by step,
gathering up your sadness in your arms,
that’s what makes you different.

Your beauty is elusive,
tangible and otherwise,
sharp and sweet,
your beauty stems not from what you aren't,
but what you are.