The woman scrolls her usual scroll, not looking for anything in particular....then she sees it - not perpendicular.
Ethereal,
Quintessential.
Moons and stars and coloured gems all
glinting in the afternoon light.
The woman afixes them to her curtain rail
The girl gasps - her eyes wide.
Rainbows danced across the walls, a shifting, sparkling tide.
She breathes. She is delighted.
It's such a little thing, she knows,
The girl and I -
She is me and I am She.
The girl did not die in the fire
She stepped out, glazed with gold.
She still gasps at rainbows on the wall—
proof that wonder never grows old.
A soft reminder that it's okay to be a child at heart.
Sometimes healing means letting yourself play, notice, and believe—just like before.
