The Gift of Life
i see her everywhere.
in every child with a smile on their face,
in the dandelions that grow
through the cracks on the sidewalk,
in the little things that never change.
thirteen year olds aren’t supposed to die.
it isn’t something pretty or nice,
it can’t be wrapped up in a box
with a bow on the top,
but she was beautiful.
even in leaving,
her face lit up the room
like a thunderstorm,
i see her in the rain.
in the way the light flashes,
explodes across the sky,
she was a tornado,
that swept through my body,
gentle despite it all.
i find it hard to live normally.
to accept the fact that she is gone,
i believe everyone gets a miracle,
and that black haired beauty was mine,
so fine, you can take her
but you will never take the spirit,
never quite quiet the music –
this was her story.
she is breathing here still,
for she lived.
and oh, how beautiful that life was.
By Kathryn Malnight