You’ll take away my grey hair, you will. Magically. Replace each one with the perfect shade of pink champagne. And I’ll be sixty like that. And smiling big from our gentle conversations.
You’ll have my willing green eyes, you will. Automatically. Value simple bike rides without analyzing the weather. And the air in your wings. And so what when the rain pelts your seasoned skin?
You’ll battle my worst tendencies, you will. Tragically. Celebrate the good and bad of them. And together, we’ll love the humble. And Conqueror will be your second middle name.
An angle you’re at, you are
Do you do it,
Position yourself that way
Knowing, waiting, at long last, for the day
My eyes will recognize the proper approach?
We ache, don’t we
Our trudging, persevering waves
Our praying to not fade away into the vintage
We make you hurt, all we want
The warmth of some sun wrapped so permanently around us
That the days of being exposed and cold….
And alone
In the heat
Be behind us
Can you do that?
If given the chance
I’ll simply, truly love you
You, conceived in love
Oh guardian
Self-appointed and thus, the lower-case “g”
Continue to move freely about this space you supposedly shepherd
And vie, with all the other dogs
I will not fear you and where you may take me
What you might say or whether it offends the offenders
I only know that this is a golden year
And I, a golden girl in the making now, must embrace it
A beautiful jigsaw of a puzzle
Jagged
So Puzzling
Most diligently contemplated
Crafted
Then Completed
Thrown to the air as confetti
Despite
In spite
I, now called to intentionality
Investigate
And restore

A half world away
I delight to see you grow
For we’ve roots and wings
I am never going to tell.
I’ll talk circles around them when they inquire and railroad them as they pry. I’ll question their questioning, “Isn’t it obvious?” I’ll ask.
And should they speculate, I’ll lead them on, Westward, with the same come-hither look in my eyes that you gave me.
You taught me what I’ll teach them: Find the glory…find you’re gold.