soft-cover suitcases

I will give my daughter a home 
in these forests of ink, towering
towards a folded paper sky.
I will give her the opening pages-
her mama's heart, her daddy's pleasure
write her name in the empty spaces
until she learns to stand.

I will give her my soft-cover suitcases
mostly filled with hopes and dreams
(whatever that means)
and some paper thin memories.

I will read them to her on quiet days
so she can hear
what's whispered in the turn of the winds
i will give her a strand of desert beads
(parched paper and leaves)
to bind her hand to mine 
until she's ready to break free
and write

the deep-blue
deep inside 
electrifying, fear-denying
story we hope she'll one day lead
(her daddy and me)

but these are just words.