Sunday, December 12, 2004


Are garlanded with gold and silver waves
Delicate blue lines, crisscrossing, intersecting
Beneath daisy-white skin
A map that leads straight to my heart
The conundrum of my soul
An enigma made of obsidian, crystalline femininity
A force to be reckoned with
Whose eyes blaze with knowledge and
Fierce gray determination, threatening, promising
Like a gathering tempest
Captivating all who get caught up in
Your gale-force wit and
Wild, magnetic spirit
There’s no shelter, no break wall
Or sandy shield
Just swirling winds, a breezy, powder-scented
Made of fire and cool water and soft gossamer
Unpredictable, all encompassing, a lamb
A lioness who lies down
When the skies open up
And the merciful rain comes tumbling, tumbling
Down upon my arid desert core
And coaxes the forgotten seedlings
The sleeping flowers, fantasy-bright, the color of dream
To emerge, to blossom, to follow
In the wake of your innocent storm

Happy birthday, baby girl.

I love you.



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