small to me,
even as she grows and stretches toward the sky,
responding to the sun and rain as a flower moving toward its greatest height.
is of spun gold,
which she today tints in the brightness of fuchsia,
the ends spattered with red - the color of life, not death.
is nearly imperceptible,
or as big as the sky.
Her mood, her spirit, her energy determining the tone.
the smallest child without direction.
And, without warning, a woman generations in the making, all strength and boldness.
expectations, boundaries, and me.
She will dance with reason and always take the lead.
the world around her.
This is her nourishment, her sustenance.
her tears sprung from deep inside, as she is sprung from me.
belying the fear, displaying no hesitancy in her step.
from words and bruises alike - the pain equal.
the universe's greatest work,