Poetry Thursday II: A little girl walks San Pablo with her parents
I don’t know what her parents have planned for her. What school they’ll send her to, what career they’ll point her toward. I don’t know what her goals will be, how she’ll plan out her career. Whether she’ll marry well. Gift her mother with grandchildren. I don’t know how they’ll plan for old age, whether she’ll be ready to take care of her parents and later, herself. If they plan to bring her a brother or sister to play and grow old with.
I only know her as she is now. This moment. Face pressed against the window glass, two plump hands plastered to the pane above her. A lost sprite wandered in from the forest, jubilant at the sight of people. Singing HOLA! HOLA! HOLA! Loud as she can, louder with every motherly tug on her sleeve. Blue eyes dancing, dark silken curls leaping round her head. HOLA! HOLA! HOLA!
I only know her ecstasy.