By: In Which Yaya Writes
a girl with
eyes
as big as
the laughing midnight
moon,
whose vision
expands
from rolling ocean shore
to
rolling
ocean
shore,
takes a peep
at the big,
big world
and sees the things
we simply can’t.
she looks at
dirt after a
storm, covered in
dots and dimples,
and sees a
thousand birds,
feathers so full and
black,
eyes beady with
hunger,
beaks as
bright as the
midday sun,
pecking at the
ground to find worms
galore.
or a thousand tiny
ants,
bodies so red and bulbous,
legs skinny yet so,
so strong,
each striking out for their
own,
building a
house for one.
or she wishes
she just
could’ve seen,
rain,
the master
of pointillism,
create its
beautiful art.
she looks at the fire,
and sees dancers
in the flames.
crackling and laughing,
their red dresses
billowing.
their love—
so fierce,
it burns.
she looks at the smoke,
while others cry,
“Tornado!”
and point at the stream,
she sees emotion,
anger, hurt, passion,
so thick
it billows.
she looks at a tree,
and sees
each individual leaf,
each one a
different shade
of green.
she sees the
heart of nature
welcome,
with open arms,
poor woodland creatures,
who have no home.
she sees love sparkle,
around the sun-setting
silhouette.
she looks at animals—
cows, dogs, cats, chickens—
and can see
their emotions,
radiating off of
them.
can know what they’re thinking,
when all but their eyes
are silent.
can find a friend,
when others see none.
she looks at
the sky,
and sees the playful
daughter,
her eyes so crystal blue,
painting to her
hearts delight
the clouds upon which
she gazes.
she swears
she heard
a whale call out
for her.
she looks towards the ocean,
and can see the
whales swimming,
in the shimmering sea,
their fins flapping,
as they beckon her to
join them.
she can see the mountains,
stoic and respected,
with a gleam
in their eye,
telling her to climb them.
she can see jungles,
as mischievous as the
animals that
abide within it,
teasing her,
calling for her
to brave their
gnarled centers.
she takes her
shoes off,
to feel the
ever-shifting sands
of hope
beneath her feet.
to feel
the soft, grass,
covered in a
thousand tears,
finally wipe their eyes.
she wears her
hair down,
to feel the wind
come tell her hi,
and bring her new
secrets,
from across the world.
she finds beauty
in all the nature
around her.
but the most beautiful
thing she has ever seen
was people.
their smiles so
white and gleaming
like freshly fallen snow.
their hair thick and shiny,
tugging at their
scalps.
their hands
so ready
to hold another.
she looks at them,
and her very
heart swells.
she goes to the
little ones, and
spins them in a circle,
round and round,
until all their
laughter mixes
into one joyful sound.
she goes to the
big ones,
and listens to
what they say,
nodding and smiling,
until her head hurts,
but joyful because
they’re happy.
she goes to the old ones,
and talks with them,
holding cold, wrinkly hands,
until she warms them again.
never has she seen,
a more
beautiful creation.
she thanks the Creator,
for these most of all.
when they cry,
she cries.
when they hurt,
she hurts.
when they laugh,
she laughs.
until all of them
know,
the have a friend,
in this girl, a girl with
eyes
as big as
the laughing midnight
moon,
whose vision
expands
from rolling ocean shore
to
rolling
ocean
shore.