Portrait of a child finding her voice

A portrait done in edited strokes

Looping her with shadow

Framing her in glow

Tinting, highlighting, neutralizing

Child, for this moment you are not growing

In image and word you stop

You still yield

Like beeswax warmed in your palm

Still so close to Him

But a growing capsule of His expression

In outbreak

Your words

Crisper than an adults

Your voice arriving, high-pitched

Insistant

If I could wash the light over your eyes, I would

But you will be:

Hurt by this world

Hurt by me

Separated from Him

I will listen to your intone

And hope that you know

that you are also:

Firmly, consistently, eternally loved

And tenderly heard