Little Fire Child
Of the child born of earth and stone..
A simple clay mold that shed life upon the fire that was the sun.
Her dual irises seemed so bright and fair,
I can remember the first time i first saw her there.
Playing amidst the ripples and the clay,
the tadpoles swimming rings around her playful yet still finger tips.
She had the rosiest of cheeks that painted her pastel figurine..
The sun kissed skin seemed to just scream i am summer’s child.
I watched her over the seasons as they came and went..
Her family loyally visiting every summer solstice..
For what reasons do human families gather at this time of year..?
I have always wanted to ask- and yet i left it as a mysterious gift for myself..
A cliff hanger one may say- to make life more interesting.
I watched her from a distance,
Grow.. and evolve..
From four legs to two.
And here she now stands a semi-grown fae.
Lost in deep sorrow i see here yet again among the tadpoles..
This time.. she was alone..
Her kin’s scents so far and distant now.
Has she finally left the nest?
I yearn to ask.. and yet.. the rule of the Veil does not permit.
She had to cross it on her own-
Knowing or not..
That fateful day came when she entered my own domain for the second time in her short human life..
This little fire child dances among the reeds..
Her tearful smile turning into laughter..
Among the wind and the floating summer seeds..
By: Marie G.