Atop Paintbrushes

poem for my daughter

I will give you the paintbrushes. You will make the painting. It may start with your fingers. It may start with your ideas. It may start with just spilling color and making the best of it. You’ll know how to start when it’s time to start. Be patient. Make the best of the weather. Learn from past conditions. Everyone makes at their own pace. I will make you breakfast tomorrow. Someday you will be the one to make the meals for another loved one, or two. Or maybe you’ll have a personal chef? These days it’s green beans and buttered chicken. I will give you a crib, and then a bed. One day, you’ll buy your own house. Or maybe an apartment atop a skyscraper? Or maybe a small cabin in The Rockies or Sapa? Or maybe you’ll just sleep by the beach and swim the day away with hippopotamuses. Whatever life gives. Whatever you give life. Paint yours. Into reality. Like how you’re crawling across the living room, today. Undeterred. Your own ideas. One reality. My little loved one. -Da Da.