Colors in Time
poem & photo by Matty Wilkinson for our daughter's 10th birthday
Fall came quickly this year.
I woke up and the leaves had turned.
Green split into many colors,
yellows, oranges, reds, browns.
An albino squirrel, white as snow,
skipped across the grass,
and climbed high into a towering oak tree.
Before you were born,
we watched you moving,
on the screen of the sonogram.
Your hands touching your face,
your fingers exploring that inner world,
deliberate, delicate, soft and wise.
Wisdom grows out of innocence,
magic grows out of simple things.
Touching, sensing, creating.
The calling crow outside my window says no,
it can’t be done.
But why should I listen to him?
Your smile tells me yes.
A choice between inevitability and magic.
The earth is shaped by movement,
wind and water carve paths in stone.
Life brings constant change.
Today in your face,
I see the progression of time,
compassion’s roots,
reaching down, into the earth.
Your body moves,
grace breathes.
The sun smiles and radiates heat,
the moon opens her hands,
gestures and beckons.
Life flows forward.
Life tastes sweet, and bitter,
re-turning to our innocence,
you remind me
to take all the pain and worry,
and lay onto the ground.
The opposite of fear is not courage,
it is love.
♥️
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