my horizon

 

my beloved one, my only child

you are a tempest in a tiny teapot

you are a breathtaking horizon

you are a force to be reckoned with

by virtue of heroine in the bloodlines

you are cherished memories written

(indelibly) 

you are infantries of unapologetic love

you are the curiosity of the crow

and the emerald jewel of its fascination

(simultaneously)

you are the apple of your father’s eye

you are your mother’s lasting masterpiece

you are a wildflower conquering the cliff sides

you are the unassuming beauty of the autumn skies

you are as fierce as you are fervent

like the affection of a lion

like a princess with a pistol

before, now, when, again

everything that ever was, or ever will be

 you are loved

(unequivocally)

a. duncan, 2018

 

in dedication to my daughter, my horizon, my sweet Savannah Jean…

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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

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