The fireflies twinkle out over the damp fields
and the smell of freshly mowed grass
permeates the air.
There is a perfume here
that smells of childhood.
Of humid nights playing shadow tag-
moonlit evenings of primitive camp outs-
of lonely whippoorwills and
distant trains...
and eyes that saw the world with
innocence and amazement.
Sometimes I like to pretend
that I'm a little girl again.
That I could really climb that tree
and wade that creek
and catch those lightning bugs
by the dozen.
I like to think the moon is watching me
like a giant angel in the sky-
that the sun follows me like
a magnificent umbrella-
and that the stars
contain wishes
that are yet to come true.
I like to think
that I'm not completely grown up.
That God still molds me to his will
and sees promise where
sometimes I cannot.
I like to think I am still
changing, improving, learning.
But I also like to think that
no matter how old I get-
I will always admire nature.
That little frogs
and wild flowers
and the smell of hay
will always fascinate me.
That a sunburned nose
and muddy feet
and wind tossed hair
will always be welcomed.
I like to think that these days
are truly lived-
that not a precious moment is wasted.
That not a single memory
is taken for granted.
That I will never forget
the little girl I once was.
Or the woman that
God has made of me.
I still delight in
butterflies and dandelions-
smooth river rocks
and giant oaks-
tiny fish
and shiny bugs
and timid yellow birds.
I still love
the smell of lilacs,
the feel of a rain storm,
the night dew on my toes.
I hope I never lose the gift
of pretending.
I hope I always remember to
breathe deeply-
love strongly...
And every once in awhile take the time-
to be a little girl again....
