splinter of memory

I look at her - 

A little girl with luscious braids, 

Playing play-pretend and singing at the top of her lungs, 

But deep within she had emotions she couldn't comprehend - 

Too big for her to even understand. 

Then here I stand as I watch a memory younger than noon, 

Of a little girl who would've sought comfort in myself - 

Such pride I carry that whatever that girl has been through,

Looking back at her, 

knowing I make her feel safe. 

Here I stand so nurturing, 

like it's a maternal instinct - 

That even baby animals seek my warmth. Rest now precious one,

In the arms of who you’ve become.