Day Of Life

 



Breached, the stillness gave way to apprehension.
Basalt shadows cringed at segments of sunlight
splayed around, lost from a clinging hold,
shaken off from the fluttering hem of your gown.

Stones lining the garden path
started growing viridian memories
as every step you took chiseled into their hearts
awe upon awe of what the purpose of power is,
as dictated by the silent whips of laughter from your toes.

Flowers shimmered as your shining gaze hit their petals,
nearly collapsing the buds to full bloom.
Flight paths of the wind undulated as your delicate hands
shredded them into mints of morning air,
while your digits played among themselves
and wrote their carefree excitement
on giggled gasps of lost little breezes.
And I, the gardener, your dad, had to let you have your way,
as your baby hands started gathering flowers
for Mother's Day.