She Walks

She walks ahead of me,

Taking her own path. 

All I can think,

Is how little time we get to have them,

Close beside us.  

Eventually they head out into the world,

To find their own place. 

But no matter where they go,

I’ll love them unconditionally,

Until I am no more. 


Each petal a layer,

Added together to make a whole. 

How much you see,

Depends on you.  

Most see she’s a bud,

Because that’s as deep as they go. 

Some see a few opening petals,

Thinking that’s all she has to show. 

And rare are those who see her fully open. 

They’re the ones who take the time to look,

Who want to see her fully. 

That’s where the real beauty is. 


Scent of hay,

And I’m transported. 

The first halting steps of finding me,

Of exploring and being explored,

Lying in a hay barn. 

Of scratched skin,

On unforgiving surface,

Trembling at a found new world. 

I breathe it all in,

Lingering in the pause,

The quiver. 

Before I carry on with my day.