By nabs
There's a girl dancing to the music of life.
Summer eyes, summer child.
Playing air guitar with imagination,
drumming her little feet to the earth.
Dancing her own little rituals.
Hops and twirls. Giggling.
Jumping and clapping,
letting the joy course through her little body.
The girl grinned impishly at me,
mischievous glint in her eyes.
She run towards me and grabs my hand,
whisking me away to dance.
Each spins and hops,
Taught me how to laugh.
How to stop and wonder and dream and dream.
How to let life be breathtaking.
I didn't realize I had forgotten the simplicity of joy.
There's a little boy with sparrow wings.
Woven from the stars and the shadow.
Hands full of carefully gathered sand,
golden golden sand.
He let them go, slipping through his finger tips,
watching them get swooped away by the wind.
"Why do you do that?"
The question slipped out of my mouth.
Like an eager bird flying for the first time.
That startled me.
I thought I had long forgotten how to let my questions out.
The boy gaze at me,
His eyes swirls like oil spills
with it striking rainbows that looks
young and old on his face.
He doesn't smile, he doesn't need to.
He take my hand and guide it towards the ground,
sinking it down the golden golden sand.
Gently closing my fingers to cup at them.
They feel soft, like silk and lips.
They tickle and I loosen my grasp.
As each grain flies away from my clutch,
Flashes of images floods my mind
like a storm of wings, each
was made from memories and carries feeling.
The birth of a daughter seen by the father,
the first time someone went to the sea,
the giddiness of two people falling in love,
the sunshine reflected on your eyes.
A hand brushed a stray tear away.
The boy doesn't smile, he doesn't need to.
I didn't realize I was crying.
He looked at me and I understand.
Like little kids saying goodbye to their friends,
Memories are meant to be let go.
To not clutch them tight as to not destroy them.
Memories are too easily tainted.
So I open my palms again and said goodbye.
I'll know they'll come back, like little kids know
their friend will be back the next day.
I have never felt this free before.
There is a baby with a tuft of black hair on top.
Bundled with innocence and wonder.
She had her eyes open, she giggled.
It's her first laugh, it sparkles like fairies.
I picked her up and hold her close to me.
I run and run and run until
there's wing on my back.
Taking a leap of faith, and jump.
Soaring toward the blue blue skies for the stars
with life pumping through my veins.
