The ones we raise are the ones taking over what we leave behind. It’s the company they keep that implies who they’ll be. Following the footsteps holding our hands. We pray for the better but are never prepared for the worst her first. No mother is ever ready for what the world has in store for her majesty. Picking up the ways of another clawing her way out its womb presented to destruction. Dripping the nectar onto your flesh. Lend me your hand young one embrace what I have to offer. Focus breathe into me. Never let the discouragement of others remind you what shouldn’t be. As I carry you through the light of day we prosper into a new. A dozen meadows cloud the judgment of what has led you to me. Nothing but gushes of wind blows through the fair maiden’s curls and god’s eye gliding onto your existence. I promise to love you till the final call and the curtains close. We too shall rise together.
Sculpting the pieces of what could never be loved by others. I look at you and smile tilting the crown you were destined to wear. Yellow becomes you. But white discovered you. You are blessed. Balancing the earth’s gravity and the mid sky’s opening. My heart pumps the blood thriving off your happiness. Finally understanding how that feels. I leave you everything in me. From the power of my strength to the spirit slipping past my lips. With this endless reminder as you flourish into who you want to become, my everything, my majesty.