His Daughter

Sometimes I forget You are His Daughter.
I look at Dreamy Brown liquid, so soulful, so bright
so mysterious, so kind,
the eyes of promise, of future and flight.

Sometimes I forget You are His Daughter.
The Daughter of the One I gave my Heart to
the One I gave my solemn Vow to
The Daughter I nagged God for
And made Promises that I would Die for

Sometimes I truly forget You are His Daughter.
The One who broke my Heart and Soul
For Whose treachery I fought Padded walls
And Lived to see the Sun of Day
You Child, a third, the power
that Helped me get away.

Sometimes I forget You are His Daughter.
You are so unlike Him
You are so like Him
And so Stubborn like Me.
And it's so easy to Forget.
That you are a Soul all of your Own.
A Soul so Old and Wise.
A Soul so conning and elusive.

Sometimes I just forget.

For Neo.

In Retrospect

It is a sad thing to see when one of your children, the one that you have devoted so much love and attention to, suddenly informs you that she has had enough of you and tells you goodbye.  I guess I took a little too long to heal this time. I guess I have taken too long to become successful, rich, thin...the type of mother she would be proud of.

I guess it doesn't matter that I took her side, time and time again, even when I knew she was wrong, just because I wish I had had someone on my side as a child.  For that, I publicly apologize to my sons.  I should have listened to you more and cuddled her less.

I was trying to build a strong independent woman.  A woman who no matter what circumstances she found herself in, would be capable to stand on her own two feet and be the only one who chose what her destiny was going to be.  A woman who didn't need anyone to lift her up and make her soar.  A woman who can count on her wits and charms to make her dreams come true.  Well, I guess, I'm better at what I do than I thought.  My daughter is all those things and more.  I guess in all the lessons I was teaching my precious daughter, in making her so independent that she relied on no one, I forgot to teach her one more; compassion.

Funny thing that such an artistic person, who deals with music, colors, fashion, abstract objects and deals with multi-dimensional individuals on a daily basis, can be so "black and white" in her personal views.   A conservative artist.  That is who she is.  Quite an oxymoron.

All in all, I have no regrets.  I raised her and my other two children with an eye on the future.  I taught them to think for themselves, to be proud of who they are, of their heritage, of their family, to stand up for themselves and not allow others to take advantage of them.  To break the cycle of poverty, abuse and ignorance that I was born into.  And that, I have accomplished.  That, no one can take from them.  Or from me.  Not even her.