A trail of footprints embedded in the snow, she hops.
To the shape of her Wellington boots.
Oblivious to the world.
Innocent and pure.
This is happiness.
Daisies spring up with optimum, begging to be picked.
For a chain?
Or in her hair.
Excited for the path ahead,
For a life awaiting to be explored.
Passion and zest.
This is adventure.
The Sun radiates as the veil is lifted,
Hearts beat in sync to the tune of love.
Fear is diminished as the choir sings on.
Trusting and safe.
This is home.
Pumpkin seeds litter the kitchen, some scatter on the floor.
On tiny hands.
Seeking knowledge through unusual means.
Lives united through this carefree soul.
Hope and Pride.
This is Purpose.
Cold air blows as the chill descends,
Fractals crackle of the frozen ground.
As the footprints fade in the shape of her Wellington boots.
Fulfilled and content.
This is peace.
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