Monday, December 10, 2012


Looking up at the blue sky

I am pierced with all the good;

The memory of how it should be

Calm mind because of drifting up.

All ribbons and colours sparkle-

It’s a little girl thing.

A big mama thing surrounded by children;

Sitting in the middle

Forgetting the age,

Laughing; no, giggling.

Good things not passed away but-

Always in Heaven’s treasure box.

I can sit on the shore and look up and outward

And wait until ‘girl’ is a forever thing,

Always wanted; always allowed.