My Beautiful

Her ringlets fly into her eyes, as she skips up the walkway,

Hand in hand with her brother; content and carefree, as with all two-year-olds.

Laughing and giggling, she disappears. Gone is the hallucination, the peace.

As I focus again, she begins to rematerialize, gradually becoming clearer.

Oh Bella, doesn’t your name truly say it all?

Innocent, but cautious as she approaches. Impatiently, she brushes her hair out of her eyes.

But she trusts others, to care for her, to guide her, to love her.

What it would mean to be peaceful and innocent, yet ignorant again…

Amiably her toddler eyes light up with her new discovery, her new wonder.

Is the serene life one of simplicity, or is it truly more intricate?

The growth of spring lingers in the air; every flower must eventually bloom.

But never will my Bella… “Never,” I sigh as she fades away again.

Though I attempt, I can’t make her come back, to this world, to me.

Beyond anyone’s power, it is, to create that which barely existed.

Yet the longing doesn’t cease, and the vision comes once more.

Of the little, free-spirited child, with the sparkly eyes,

Full of the one thing I’m desperate for her to have: life.