My Oldest Daughter Poem by chris schwartz

My Dear Daughter,
The wall you have built
Is glued together
With a Stucco
Made of tears.
Your bricks are strong,
But cannot be bound together,
With your bitterness
And your fears.
Take each stone
In the palm of your hand
And glare at it,
Until it turns to Crystal.
Then, hold it to the sunset,
And watch the pyramid of light
Shine through its layers.
You will see your eyelashes
In its reflection
And the newborn smile
Of first light,
In it's prism.
Put the crystal
In a drawer,
And take it out
30 years later.
Hold it up to the sunset,
And watch how quickly,
The light catches,
Then escapes,
Your precious gem.
The wall you were building,
All the while.
You will grow to realize
All I needed was your smile.