To be little again.

The trees are taller than me,
the buildings almost touch the sky
my love builds off the flowers I pick and give to others.

The sky is larger than my eyes can see,
I wish I could follow it to its end,
my hands can scoop up so much sand,
until it falls out on the ground again.

I see a little bird but I don't see it's mommy,
I try to feed it but my mom told me to leave it.
We don't have enough time,
and I can't tell time yet anyways.

My little head carries a great big world,
with great brave people with great big hearts.
Fear cannot be found anywhere,
there aren't any dark corners to store it.

Chapter books still intimidate me,
not because they are full of many words,
but because full of many characters with unpredictable endings.
Adults say it's complicated.

When thunder storms come rolling in,
I feel the sky might fall down.
So I pack my bags and plan where we might move on next,
because we live forever don't we?