She is a simply complicated girl.
Fearless. Headstrong. Crown full of curls.
Gilded, golden, with violet hues
Timid, Fragile. This Maker’s muse.
Reigning, rule-ridden, o’er this dichotomy:
Soul’s royalty. Mind and Body’s peasantry.
Daily seeking guidance, this princess will be.
Neither black nor white…mais non, elle est gris~
Maintenant, as this little one sees and is seen.
The world wakens to life…thrives with green.
The newness, the wholeness, this birth’s beginning
Ushers forth such seasons of healing.
Woman-child…you are an intricate maze to decipher.
Breathtaking beauty traces your lines and letters.
What words shall you form, among this sea?
This ocean of life, your year of jubilee?