She is a firecracker in a silent room.
Her toothy smile
which spreads from the centre of her lips
to the tips of her ears
is contagious.
Her eyes are the blue-green colour of the ocean on a warm summer day
peaceful at the surface
and the magic held within them is reserved only to those who take a closer look.
Her hair is golden
like her soul
and her locks tangle to no end.
The springs bounce with every step she takes
the ringlets so perfect so you would think them unnatural.
But they definitely are;
she does not have the patience to sit still
for more than an instant
her body carrying her wherever fate decides—
sitting down to curl her hair would never cross her wild mind.
Her laugh comes from somewhere deep inside her slender body
somewhere far behind her rib cage
where the vibrant rhythm of her body originates.
Her heart cannot be contained
too big to fit inside even the biggest of bodies.
There is not a mean bone to be found in her
for she is filled to the brim with love and joy.
Her legs must be the 8th wonder of the world
so skinny they could snap at the lightest breeze
and yet they carry her across tracks so fast
you would think she was pacing herself with light
not the other children scurrying along behind her.
I, too, sometimes feel like I am scurrying behind her
for her imagination races at speeds mine never could.
She is the most vibrant piece of clothing in the closet
the loudest song on the radio
the spiciest food at the dinner table.
I would like to thank the old, tea-loving
Asian woman who has come to reside in my sister’s twelve year old body
for making her the most interesting book on my shelf
the most watched movie in my collection
and the quirkiest soon-to-be teenager I know.
The world is not ready for the greatness she holds
but everyone deserves a Lily in their life.
my sister loves the fact that I write poetry, and she asked me to write her a poem. this is dedicated to her. x
