My breath creates light that shines outward
golden sparkles reflected from the glow within
Shining bright from my heart to his hand
guiding his arrows straight to their target:
birdies in baskets.
Standing upon the hill, his hair was long here once
shorn inch by inch as each year
the weight of responsibilities
settled heavier on freckled shoulders.
But growth and trust bring freedom:
Freedom to grow our hair out again.
Freedom to stand tall on this hill once more.
Strength to send our arrows straight to their target.
Birdies in baskets, my dear,
Birdies in baskets.
Heart Scrawler 