First Step

Granddaughter

 Generations of upright posture,

rooted into her being,

thrusting her forward.

When she unfastened her hand,

from her mother’s

island of safety.

When she defies gravity,

for shaky equilibrium,

there is no way back.

Out of balance, off she goes,

wobbly but victorious.

Her first unsupported step,

as giant as the one on the moon.

She falls, she gets up,

she falls again,

picks herself up,

brushes away the hurt.

Under her crown of black curls,

tied up with a pink bow,

the look in her eyes,

changes from fear,

into wonder.

And the moment ,

her rising smile,

light up her face.

I wish I can store forever.