I watch as she grows
not as a flower
for flowers cannot live when separated from their roots
but as a butterfly
who will fly, floating on the breezes

I see her as she explores the world around her
tasting of the flowers
here, there, lingering, leaving
feeling the sun bring life
warming her wings

I long to be a flower
to feel her near
to support her when she is tired
to hold her when she is sleeping

I long to be a butterfly
to fly with her on the breeze
to feel the wind under my wings

but I know I can be neither of these things to her
for I am the sun

I smile down at her as she is growing
I warm her wings and watch her fly
I help her see the way and chase away the darkness

I am, to her, a given thing
a part of what is
something to be expected
nice, but not to dwell upon

I will see her fly away
and I will miss her.


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