My Daughter

My daughter

You have blossomed into quite the existentialist

And your eyes are

As open as they will ever be

At only four years

You see a rainbow’s array of curiosity

You ask:

Mama

Who was the first mama?

Mama

Can you put a bandaid on someone’s feelings?

Mama

One day when I’m a mama can I love my baby the way you love me?

Mama

What happens if you dig a hole and just keep digging?

Mama

What is in the middle of everything?

Mama

How close are the stars?

My daughter

If there were answers to each of your ponderings

Then your wonder

May fade into cities and sidewalks

But to lead a path guided by questions

Is to honor your miracle

And to ask is to unfold your life into

The mountain

The ocean

The sky

My Daughter ask another Question

For you are magic

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