My daughter pulls open her creaky door
stands at the doorway squinting
and then launches into a run
at the brand new day that awaits her.
I love the cadence of this,
her own morning song.
It is one she composes and preforms
at the dawn of each new day.
In the rhythm of her running feet
there is hope
I want, with each new day,
to feel these things too.
it is enough
to be what she runs toward,
to lift her up and say in her small ear,
today is a beautiful day.