October 26, 2014

Daughter

I know there are days when you can't look in the mirror
For fear of the outside seeping in.
But, I need you to believe something.
I need you to believe that you are one of the most beautiful dancers I've ever seen.
You are not too much.
You are enough.
I need you to believe that you cannot dance well unless you can inspect your own form.
If you never look in that mirror, you'll never see what I see...

That dance is more than slender movement.
It is bearing pain in grace.
It is moving forward
Over and over and over
Until there is beauty.

I need you to believe that, because you dance.
Every day.
You are a masterpiece of strength
A movement, dynamic in its message.

Little ballerina, don't hate what I've created in you.
Dance like you did once
In a black velvet tutu.
I was your only audience.
Dance like that.
Look in the mirror.

It's one of My favorite memories of you.

“Ima” (The Prodigal’s Mother)

 Birth is the only jubilant end To one life being shared with another. Not so joyous is the letting go that comes after. No one told me what...