Born under an orange moon full, almost named that baby Harvest,
came quick with kaleidoscope eyes inlaid in porcelain-
Open wide, like she already knew the world was starving.

Pulling angels down on kite strings.
Sending love back up to sender on sparrow's wings.
Counting the hairs on my head, that many blessings.
While faces, voices, warriors, tigers left at the waterfall guessing.

I walked down to the pond.
Just the small, silk, silent, pond...
Saw the stars reflecting there on the water,
the world turned upside down.
I'm fine with that kind of beauty,
Because,

Isn't that what brought her?