Wild Poppy

My dearest, my sweetest child
You found me again, or I found you
My olive tree childhood, the child within me
This is my gift to you, the gift of speech

Let me clothe you in these rich words
With sanctioned sounds to cover your shame
For your savagery should be unheard
And my words will give you a name

But beneath your childish restlessness
Past your mimicking of cries and caws
You are the scarlet poppy and the ice bridge
Dancing with the mood and rhythm of the raw seasons

I know at last who the leader is
For now I sway, ripple, expand and can see
Freed from the chains of my native tongue
I am reconciled and continuous with the sky
I can see your world, my child, I can feel it