twelve

(hey there blog world! what's it been, two years? i wrote this yesterday after some unkind soul pointed out to me that my youngest sister is nearly 12. it was only after i'd written it that i realized that she actually won't be 12 for a year and more, and i myself am no longer 22, so that should tell you everything you need to know about my math skills. but i'm still glad i thought about it.)

I was twelve when you were born,
And I am still in some ways twelve.
Though I am nearly twice your age
For the first and last time.

You were possibility,
A wide-eyed soft-skinned baby dream.
I let you crawl across my sheets
And taught you patty-cake.

When she is my age now,
I thought
I’ll be wiser
Somehow.
I thought
I’ll feel much older
But now
It’s like
You’ve grown into
Yourself, but I’m still me…

When she is my age, then,
I thought
I’ll have my own children,
I thought
She’ll visit my new home
And read
Those books I always
Knew I had in me…

What is twelve when you are young?
An itchy hope spread in your bones.
An endless longing to be free
To see the green earth.

This is my prayer for you:
When you are twenty-two,
You won’t look back or forward, always,
The way that I do.

Let yourself be twelve.
Be curious, be enspelled
Lie dreaming in the grass,
Make summer evenings last—

Play music
All
Night.

Don’t think of what will be
When you’re as old as me.
Inside you everything
Is blooming,
Close your eyes and see.

I was twelve when you were born.
We are all in most ways twelve.
Caught within our grown-up lives,
We dream
Of who we might be.