A Letter to My Daughters

I lift you up,
as far as my arms will allow
and when these old,
time-capsule tendons
have reached their breech
readied to rip apart
I stretch a little more
and let go of my heart.

You land solid,
confident, sure-footed.
I watch you run.
I watch you run so fast
grabbing every taste
as though it’d be your last
and I am so fulfilled
so thrilled to see you free.

You are already more
than I could ever be
and that is a fact-checked timesheet
a testament and trophy
I’ll take to the grave with me
when my clock runs out.

I hope you’ve watched
every move I have ever made
in your shadow.
I hope to have left a trail
for the sunless days
when life feels too long
too shallow.
Bread crumbs that the birds won’t eat
so you may see where to place your feet
and follow my steps back home
or wherever you need to be.

I hope you stand tall
full of zest and zeal
for the Universe will test you
mess with you
make you crumble and fall.
I hope I have shown you
the best locale for your walls
and where to keep your ladders.
​
I lift you up,
as far as my arms will allow
and when these old,
time-capsule tendons
have reached their breech
readied to rip apart
I stretch a little more
and let go of my heart.