my wish for you

March 14, 2011

my wish for you

when you are this little and

cannot yet write, that you

discover beauties of sight

and sound

in language:

that you

delight in the complex burbles

and splashes of water flowing and

falling, the shivering of trees

in the wind,

the strange

curves of letters

printed on paper, painted on walls,

and the smooth, soft sounds of

the whispered words, “I love you.”

as you sprout up

and learn how

if you move

your hand just

like that, you

can make a line

that looks like

this, that the

words will one

day come bursting

out, pushing their

way from your

heart, through your pen, and as the sentences

come scribbling across your page, beautifully

misspelled, some beaten and chewed like your

favorite building blocks or barbie dolls, that you

will recognize them as raw and rare and precious. 

  

as you continue

to grow and

mature, learning

so many incredible

things, open

to what the world

has to show you,

that your words

will grow as you

do, becoming

as resplendent as

rainbows reflecting

off of ocean spray, as wild as running wolves,

each with its own spirited pulse, as magnificent

as the constellations shining above us all, and as

glorious as the sparkling waltz of the northern lights.

and as you live to be older, as you

become weary with a life of creation

and artistry, that you find the time

to rest, but

still to write;

that the words

you craft gain wisdom as you do,

taking on a more thoughtful tone,

but retaining their beauty and life;

that they

comfort

you and care

for you, remaining faithful companions

until your last days; that they might become

more pensive, but never lose their wonder.