September Daughter

September

was my least favorite month–

the end of carefree endless days,

returning to rules and routines.

Then you arrived

on the 24th,

a day that was

still wearing the

golds of summer.

You came with your own weather,

your own compass,

already certain

of where you belonged.

You grew into colors

I didn’t know existed,

painting the world 

with your vision,

seeing what others passed by,

uncovering beauty in

piles of dirt.

Your mind has always been

a room with many windows

clear and bright,

open to questions without

easy answers.

And inside of you

is a way of seeing,

behind the smiles,

beneath the stories, 

past what everyone shows

to what is real.

You have been strong-willed

from the beginning,

standing firm

but knowing when to bend,

when to begin again,

when to enter

and when to exit.

My September days are shortening.

Leaves are falling.

Light is softening.

I am finally understanding

what the seasons

have been telling me:

Change is not the same as loss.

Still, I stand here

watching you live

through all your seasons

wanting to keep you from the fall,

wishing I were more like September

which has always known

that letting go 

is part of becoming.