My girl says,
“I want to do it my way.”

Cyphers how its done
without being taught
lessons would simply
muddy her thoughts,
her trials spinning
silk from everyday ether.

My girl says,
“I think God is us.”

A bold declarative
her narration on life,
on her drifty soul
after a day at the waterpark
with Daddy on the trip back home-
a sudden insight on deity.

My girl says,
“Oh my GOSH...”

A blurt before giggles
grandly juggled in throat
unleashed upon world
with accompanying snort
she laughs so hard-
she's wild and brazen with life.

My girl says,
“Amenandsomoteitbe.”

Speedily, spritely
ending her prayers, only
pretending to be prepared
for bed- in reality ready to pounce
on ponderings pulsing thick through
her always-busy head.

My girl says,
“Was that a good question?”

And I pause, marveling at
her confidence, her wit
to have these queries
at six, her mind ablaze
and I respond,

“They're all good questions.”

I'm hopeful she'll always inquire
and that I might have answers
to the symphonies and strands
my girl says.