Karem Barrett beautifully captures what it is like to mother a daughter.
K. Barratt
To love her is to walk
Over egg shells and rose petals;
Is to embrace shy rainbows in the
Middle of the storm.
To love her is to decipher new
Worlds of pixels and apps and
Fake deaths that draw out laughs.
To love her is to live in wonder
At the witnessing of the beauty that
Is and the beauty that is becoming.
To love her is to bite your lips
Not to say the wrong thing that
Can be echoed at the therapist’s
Chair, twenty years from now.
To love her is like being a scientist
Of life, analysing the way she sees,
She thinks, she reacts, smirking
With pride at her talents and puffing
With frustration when she refuses
To go down the labyrinth and press
The red button you have set up, to
Help her, according to your mighty
Wisdom, grow.
To love her…
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