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.