Blog Your Blessings: My Daughter

Adella will be nine tomorrow. With such a sweet and sensitive little soul who is kind to the world around her, I am unfathomably blessed.

When she was tiny, I would carry her in my arms and take her with me all over the place on walks. She would watch everything--the geese, the dance of shadows on the grass, the clouds. Being with her and following her gaze was a meditation unto itself. My daughter, my teacher. She taught me to see. I wrote this little poem for her after our first autumn together:

Asters, bittersweet, corn....
The early autumn alphabet
Promises something like
Goldenrod,
A nod to memory
That marks time by temperature--
Is it night now, or day?--
Autumn heat
Sings with dying.
Asters fade to phosphorous blue.
Bittersweet, to banked coals.
Too much heat.
The world tumbles into night.
Goldenrod blows in the wind, sun
In a falling sky; we
Dress for night.

Blog Your Blessings