I am irrefutably shy, in spite of possible bold first impressions and sporadic confessions of honesty, unwavering words and pinpoint clarity.
In a room filled with people gravitating in spaces not mine alone, it takes all of me to hold still and breathe. I am unable to understand how can one just co-exist in situations unplanned, in places new. Anchors I look for, to steady the tumultuous waves of my anxious heartbeat.
You are safe now, are the words whispered, is the hand that holds mine, are the eyes glancing quietly, is the folded origami crane before me.
And though I fear the impending darkness, I know that these things will keep me secure for a little longer.
And hold on, even when the cracks show and the wood roughens, when the unwinding layers of an onion burns the eyes, when splinters catch the arm. Sometimes they just need to hear the sound of someone’s steady heartbeat when theirs is breaking.
Little people have lives larger than their bodies can contain.
That warm glow, a space not many can hold for long. A smile that varies, expression evident at every turn of the clock.
Small is powerful, they claim, and I say it’s true still. Just a tiny fist having it raised commands much attention. This one curled by the bedside is a sight sweeter than one can expect in the dark of night. When reasoned with, tears will move even the stoniest of hearts.
Little people with a touch of magic, I hope you grow up knowing there’s more than games to play all day long. Be it pain or joy, each moment will carve the shadows sewed to the bottom of feet at eventide. This be the unspoken question feared: will the hand holding the older’s fade away, or clutch tighter?
We already know: energy bundled within is never destroyed or lost, but merely transformed. And so, where will your spark go forth in this vast world?
Yet hush now, despite these musings it’s time to sleep, wide-eyed child.