Somewhere in my youth
Or childhood
I remember hearing
That silver laugh…
A little girl
With explosion-like hair,
With the eyes of the greenest of Earth,
That little girl
With her faith and despair,
With her beating and popping words;
The most of a human,
That little girl,
And the most of an angel inside…
In front of me
She was looking for truth,
She grew, she laughed, and she cried.
I was her friend,
That still and desperate comrade of her;
Her comfort, her question I was.
That little girl
She spoke with Him
As no one ever before,
As if He wasn’t our God.
He was her friend.
And she had many friends:
Each cup and each blade of grass.
Oh little girl,
You taught me how to descend
And never fall down in cracks.
So many years have passed
And now
So many people have passed.
Porcelain also grows old
At last
Remembering how once she laughed.