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As I know her
Jan. 6th, 2009 10:00 pmShe is a redhead; by appearance and by nature. She is a landmark, she is a home. She is an individual who finds her way, and she is a breathing force of nature. She is not just the embodiment of a concept, she is the very earth around which the concept was built, extending unbroken to the first living thing.
She cooks amazing vegan food and can wield spices like a painter's palette.
She is thoughtful and kind. Her care for people is genuine and rewarding, and they can tell. She gives excellent advice, and it is delivered carefully. She is clever enough to see where you're going, and wise enough to teach you to see, instead of merely showing you.
Her eyes shine in the sun. Her limbs are warm and taste like clouds.
She provides a space where I can be as goofy or as sophisticated as I feel. She is not intimidated by seriousness, nor disdainful of childish glee. She can inhabit a spectrum. She has a positive attitude, which is more than an affectation; it is built on a foundation of survival, a determination to foster happiness despite odds, for her and others. She can find the path of strength, buried in the foliage, and carve her way along it. She knows where to go.
Her freckled nose is an icon; kissing it brings good luck. Her hands are catlike; stroking your neck with expert fingers. She can be crafty. She can be dirty. She can see what you're about. She remembers you.
She finds peace and stability, helps to build it, and fills it with color, joy, and warmth. She will steady the frame while you hammer a nail. She will drive so you can sleep. She will take pride in you. She will get dirt on her face. She will hold the lantern, and if her arms tire, she will tell you in time. She is an adult. She is not a toy, ... though she is fun to play with.
She is around and within me. She is everything she says, and more than she will say. I hold her face in my hands, and she grins up at me, and lightning strikes in the woods.
She cooks amazing vegan food and can wield spices like a painter's palette.
She is thoughtful and kind. Her care for people is genuine and rewarding, and they can tell. She gives excellent advice, and it is delivered carefully. She is clever enough to see where you're going, and wise enough to teach you to see, instead of merely showing you.
Her eyes shine in the sun. Her limbs are warm and taste like clouds.
She provides a space where I can be as goofy or as sophisticated as I feel. She is not intimidated by seriousness, nor disdainful of childish glee. She can inhabit a spectrum. She has a positive attitude, which is more than an affectation; it is built on a foundation of survival, a determination to foster happiness despite odds, for her and others. She can find the path of strength, buried in the foliage, and carve her way along it. She knows where to go.
Her freckled nose is an icon; kissing it brings good luck. Her hands are catlike; stroking your neck with expert fingers. She can be crafty. She can be dirty. She can see what you're about. She remembers you.
She finds peace and stability, helps to build it, and fills it with color, joy, and warmth. She will steady the frame while you hammer a nail. She will drive so you can sleep. She will take pride in you. She will get dirt on her face. She will hold the lantern, and if her arms tire, she will tell you in time. She is an adult. She is not a toy, ... though she is fun to play with.
She is around and within me. She is everything she says, and more than she will say. I hold her face in my hands, and she grins up at me, and lightning strikes in the woods.
