(no subject)

"This is the last day I will ever be four," she said.

"That's right. You'll be fourteen and twenty-four and thirty-four, even seventy-four, but never just four again."

"Wow. You said some big fours."

-

"No! Don't hold my hand, I am FIVE."

-

Five years old and the world unfolds
For her heart so warm and her soul so bold
And the blood in my veins runs icy cold
As she walks away from me.

Her legs are strong and her feet are sure
But she never tells me what she has to endure
And the sound of her voice is strong and pure
As she talks, but not to me.

Five years growing apart and away
Stronger and lovelier every day
And there's nothing at all that I can say:
This is who she's meant to be.

Her trust is strong and her hope is clear
Wilder and gentler every year
And the way she is is precious and dear
She can always come back to me.