She was little, smart and brave. Barely five
her thoughts reflected an older woman.
My sister looking at me to survive,
Her silly smile asking me this question…
Whatcha gonna do when the day turns blue?
When the sky fills with the many lonely tears,
You ask and beg then nobody comes through.
You're left soaked to the bone when no one hears.
The day becomes all time, slowly filling
with blue. Overwhelming and contagious.
You can’t stop it, but you are not trying.
That’s what you have to do, fly when wingless.
Not because you can, but because you must.
Fill the world with the light inside your soul.
This is what I told her, and I began
to tell her of how a mare loves her foal.
The honey smell of thunder clouds, the feel
of a dog’s soft wet tongue rinsing your cares
down the drain. Every wound can start to heal.
Of sitting by a fire in big armchairs.
These are feelings she has yet to know. Soon
she will touch the velvet of a lambs ear.
My wise butterfly leaving her cocoon.
Of all I wish for you, one thing is clear.
Never feel the blue, and think no one will
break through. Because you will be forever
laughing in sun. At last your worries still.
I will always be there your one anchor
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
She was little, smart and brave. Barely five
her thoughts reflected an older woman.
My sister looking at me to survive,
Her silly smile asking me this question…
Whatcha gonna do when the day turns blue?
When the sky fills with the many lonely tears,
You ask and beg then nobody comes through.
You're left soaked to the bone when no one hears.
The day becomes all time, slowly filling
with blue. Overwhelming and contagious.
You can’t stop it, but you are not trying.
That’s what you have to do, fly when wingless.
Not because you can, but because you must.
Fill the world with the light inside your soul.
This is what I told her, and I began
to tell her of how a mare loves her foal.
The honey smell of thunder clouds, the feel
of a dog’s soft wet tongue rinsing your cares
down the drain. Every wound can start to heal.
Of sitting by a fire in big armchairs.
These are feelings she has yet to know. Soon
she will touch the velvet of a lambs ear.
My wise butterfly leaving her cocoon.
Of all I wish for you, one thing is clear.
Never feel the blue, and think no one will
break through. Because you will be forever
laughing in sun. At last your worries still.
I will always be there your one anchor
This is for my little sister. I hope she will always be there, my anchor.
