She is a daisy
found in the middle
of a blizzard.
She is the five
dollars you found
laying in the road.
She is the surprise
birthday party thrown
for you after you
were convinced
everyone forgot.
She is every
unexpected, wondrous
joy you've been blessed
enough to receive in life.
She is watching
a child blow bubbles.
She is listening to
a baby's heartbeat
for the very first time.
She is a teenagers
first nervous, shaky
kiss that they
never forget.
She is everything
beautiful and holy.
She is the rain
pattering down on
your rooftop on
lazy Sunday mornings.
She is meeting someone
who teaches you how
to love your flaws.
She is old home
movies, filmed before
your parents divorce,
when everything was
still innocent and
the world hadn't
yet touched you.
She is the comfort of
returning home after years
of being lost inside
your own head.