an age of innocence
is a call to remembrance
that we are in this world not of it"
her mother said, as she drifted off into sleep.
maya starred out the window blankly,
as tears streamed down her face.
"i always seem to cry on my birthday" she thought out loud.
she wondered through her mothers quaint forrest home,
no lights,
yet the moon's glitter shined in slightly as she made her way to the door.
she walked outside fearlessly.
she yearned for depth,
understanding,
and knew she must embody courage in order to get there.
she gazed up at a full moon,
feeling the moon gaze back at her.
she rubbed her hand down her soft-skinned arm,
crouching down to the grass
taking in the fullness of the present moment.
and just like that,
she was taken to a different time.
rather than looking up to see the moon,
she now saw full radiance of the sun
pounding down on her pale thin skin.
pleasuring her.
as she stood up,
a natural flow into dance played out.
over to the rose bush she went.
she meticulously rubbed her fingers over and through dozens of roses,
and even engaged with the danger of their thorns;
loving both parts equally
and giving them the same amount of awe.
as she caught a glimpse of her hand,
she was startled.
a tiny, precious hand in front of her.
connected to her.
her hand.
as she took off running,
she began to laugh.
and laugh.
and laugh.
she laid herself down in the grass.
gazing at the miracle we call the sky.
taking in the moment.
her laughter turned to crying;
and then back again.
feeling it all.
she stood up on the tiny feet before her,
aware of the admiration she had for the purity she felt in the now.
and like that,
night came.
it scared her a bit,
but just like the laughter and the crying,
she embraced it and felt it all.
in awe she directed her attention to the moon.
feeling safe in her body,
expansively,
fully.
she gazed down to her hand,
to find the large, woman's hand she had grown accustomed to,
yet for a moment,
she missed the petit angelic hand that was once there,
there for her to appreciate.
as she stared at the moon,
as if for the first time, she heard
"you will always be our little girl."
and it was almost like the moon was peering directly into her soul.
and she loved it.
she understood.
"happy birthday maya."
she made her way back to her mothers side,
shocked to find her awake,
they locked eyes.
and in that moment,
saw the little girl within one another.
together they said
"an age of innocence
is a call to remembrance
that we are in this world not of it"
followed by laughter, cries, and rest.
happy May 1st my love.
may you look at everyday in this month as a fresh experience and a first time.