little one

throw your arms around my dreams, little one. take me with you on your yellow ride with pigtails and glue sticks carrying you to growth. my heart walks outside of me in the greens of flattened eternity. show and telling the deepest of her soul with the innocence of life.
this tiny hand within my fingers can move mountains and change minds. its warmth a reassurance of what i can do right. all my everything and everything to her as she sleeps in the roses of morning laughter.

 

It's stuff like this that makes me reconsider my ethical qualms with reproduction. The idea of a child as a mirror/lens through which to view the world in a fresh way, and as a focus for one's natural love, it's a beautiful thing.

... at least until I see another gaggle of horribly behaved, self-entitled suburb-spawn. Clearly born because that's what married couples are supposed to do, and then follow it up with raising them by television and materialism. Then it's all 'urge to kill.... rising'.

 

beautiful, and shows the playfulness of a mom perfectly.