In Mother’s arms
You were unveiled
Like a secret gift
Absconded by angels
In the infancy of the day
On May twenty three, sweet,
Caring, emotional, angry, skeptical
Like a dandelion in early life whose fragile
Seed head scatters easily by high winds or summer wishes,
To be dispatched unknowingly to bloom many blooms far off,
Gilded in beauty unappreciated like hope after the death of tears.
Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.