Morgan

How do these days creep up on me so easily?  These markers on our whirling dance around the sun, I can almost forget how quickly they approach from beyond the far horizon to grasp us by the hands and spin us onwards.  And you, how can you be six?


Steady little dreamer.  Firmly practical and yet content in your own little bubble.  Dear gentle heart.  Six years to know you, six years to hold you, six years to let your own sweet voice become strong and to protect your stillness and solitude.  Still I wish I could see into your head, my darling beloved stranger.

You are a blessing to me, and I pray that I may be a blessing to you.  My solemn, peaceable, sunshine daughter.


Today, we are birthdaying.