Clara Poem by Laa Finita

for my daughter


A short time ago, she asked:
if she could cross the street alone
without holding my hand.
I guess I missed that line,
that distinguishes a young girl from a child.

I raised her to fly free,
and never to depend,
to follow her heart,
her dreams to share.

A good job, indeed, I did,
because, off she went,
much earlier than expected,
and somehow...
it was me who drove her away.

She`s no more my little girl.
It`s not with me, she now belongs.
She leaves a glittering tail, as she flies the Milky Way,
and dives, to find her place, brave, into the the World.

As I watch the ocean`s glow,
my soul wonders: shall we trust again,
without doubt or hesitate,
in each other`s hearts and words?

La Finita