When the Youth Teaches

Some look to the sky,

Others the stars-

I look to both.

A baby girl, an eight-year-old,

With star-light hair,

And eyes to rival the sky,

Once showed me how to love,

Melting my heart so strict and cold.

This child of the stars, of heaven, of air,

Taught me how to find the light of joy most everywhere.

Her little hands and scampering feet so quick, she ought to fly,

Gave me the hope, the drive, the need to try,

Lest I do not do before I must die.

She changed my sight, my self-blinded abode,

Until tears of gratitude from my eyes flowed,

With the certainty that this zealous mentor, this ebullient listener,

Is indeed my babiest of baby sisters.

I have seen what is real.

I have seen what is right.

All because of a child of day and of night,

Of sky and of stars.

She is the child who is the mother,

Of truth, of discover,

Of love without fright,

She is the bringer of my unblemished sight.