I was a girl and it all seemed

possible, easy and in my reach.

I jumped the rope and skipped

I was smart and strong,

dreaming of great loves

and universes

I was unashamed, careless

sensitive and fierce.

I was graceful and unyielding,

Unafraid

running and twirling

in ruffled floral prints.

I had it all.

That was then.

The seed inside me

would not germinate until late,

when I reached my peak

of beauty, happiness and love.

Then it burst out

enormous

overwhelming

and spit out the second one of me.

Yes, right out

right on her two feet,

next to me--

a grown woman.

I looked at her and started to cry.

How different, I thought,

were the dream lines on her forehead,

how large the pots of water she carried.

How dry were her hands

from washing cloth diapers,

how contained her small wishes.

How weary, tired and careful

she was,

how loved and loving.

with so much to lose.

How hard-working, wise and strong

how calm and protective,

how soft

her brown dress,

patched with a discreet lace doily,

over the mashed peas stain.

I only watch her now

in her little universe,

with her great loves

and great choices

that take the small space over,

leaving no corner

of the eye

looking at me,

no inch of air

to breath shamelessly and unafraid.

I only watch her now,

how she teaches that other little girl

to be beautiful and fearless

strong and free,

how she prays

when walking her to school,

slowly and worried,

that she will

be the one,

maybe the first

who miraculously

remains unbroken.