It is a sad and terrible world,
driven and destined to break the best of us in the most terrible ways
and the rest of us, crippled at birth, left helpless to
the whims of the relentless tide and the slow, pitiless
passage of days,
can only watch
and wait
as the moments wither and the foundation erodes until
we can no longer remember the moment we
took that first wrong step.
It does not pause to take note
of our slender hopes, our tender ambitions, these
brittle dreams like dry leaves that
blow apart and scatter
as the warm days fade to fall.
But in the ways your brown and blue eyes catch this
light
and bend it, a spectrum drifting beyond the visible, into
gentler hues that
lend credence to the songs and stories we’d known
when we
once upon a time
were small enough to believe this world offered promise and
wonder that defied imagination, twisted the laws of
physics and suggested that in the slivers of light that slip
between these heartbeats and bend
upon themselves, blending each soft flutter of eyelash and
whispered prayer into a cumulus
of possible – of impossible made real –
I find the capacity to believe
there is something worth believing in
• • •
- for my daughters -
