Poem, Sagas, Weekend

Liten jente.

I see your face every day. I’ve seen it since before your eyes would open and long before you would remember. And each day I see it I watch you grow, as I hear you speak and laugh.

A life before you yet to unfold, of joys I could only hope you might come to know, and horrors and sadness which should never dare to greet your eyes or ears.

Would I be able, I would never let you know them, though to be just I must so you might understand and not be naive. For only through that peril, and only through that fear would you truly know what has been made for you and why, in time, you see why some things may not be done.

But, a life still lays before you, one I pray will see my joys than sorrows, one in which your dreams will come to pass, for I know I will not see it all, only hope it will be so.

Though I have been here all your life, you have been in mine for but a moment. And when the light of mine will fade, and when your life would lead you near or far, you hold within my hopes, my love and dreams, to make your own of if you will.

But live long so you may one day be there the whole life of another. Hold fast, if you wish, to what embers and warmth remain, of the embrace with which I hold you from that day which you were born.

11 thoughts on “Liten jente.”

  1. Thank you. She’s slightly older than that, but she’ll get the full letter one day with all the others. One for every birthday to read when she can or cares to. They’re nice yearly summaries I think for questions whose answers I may forget.

    Liked by 1 person

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