My Daughter’s Inheritance

my daughter’s soul will be made up of bedtime stories,

colorful mosaics, and lemon drops.

there will be flowers growing from her skin and

ferocious fight in her blood.

i will tell her how the constellations in the night sky

mimic the freckles on her cheeks, just the way mine do

i will remind her that the light she seeks so deeply

is in her radiant reflection

 

my daughter will hold eternity in the palm of her hand

like an hourglass holds a grain of sand.

she will be the song everybody sings along to.

she will be the perfect paradox of fire and ice

with a burning heart, passionate, pure, but chilling

she will be a bookstore with a floor that creaks

and dust that clings on to everything

like static in the winter

 

I will give her my redwood forest eyes,

and eyebrows sharp like a knife.

I will give her my shadow

so that I am always with her-

though she will not need it,

because she can make it all on her own