She has seen the sky and the stars,
drops of blood in family wars.
Sinking ships in the melancholy of water,
people with mouths that stutter.
Loved ones changing colors like clothes,
demons over saints taking oaths.
Strange cities with warm people,
like her favorite flower in a different sepal.
Her quilt is the sky, her bed warm grass,
she’ll observe as the world will pass.
Don’t ask her just now to leave,
as she is here to sense and perceive.
Stay happy, hopeful and humble.