Primavera
You spin in circles to see the world the way God does
& all the colors in your dress hijack the sunlight
He lives in the storm of your laughter
I am sure you are more Heaven than Earth
You are in deep competition with the Pothos hanging from the shelf
By mistake, you drown the monstera on the porch
It fashions you; accidental dominance
Raw independence
Your willingness to be the wildest homegrown of all our potted
& most fragile creations, you are the most tended
The one we water with rain and blood
You rename the pet animals
Everything in your mouth becomes religious ceremony
Even my own name is a new conversion; Mommy or Mummy or
Hands In The Air Reaching, or Tears without Words
You give us a language; the tongue of firstborn flesh
Still aching to claim all my limbs
My darling girl, the world listens to you
Even your silence speaks like a distant storm
The Earth repairs the breeches the disasters have made
You learned early your own blood can be pollutant
You learned early your own skin is political bondage
You learned early your voice can shift clouds off compass
The wind of your wailing willed the trees back to their feet
Hurricanes are your kin
You will always call me back to baptism
The water-breaking motherhood is like a river through a desert storm
Only God can make you do that–
Repurpose me within the seconds you begin coloring
To the time you finish and yell, “Mommy, I am done!”
And I look upon the cloudburst of reds and purples
The witness of a deep savage flower in constant bloom
Will you join me in wishing my wonderful 4-year-old girl a very happy, blessed, and transformative birthday?
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