Kayla is my adopted 17 year-old daughter from China. She came to America when she was 8 months old. She weighed 9 pounds, couldn’t sit up because she had been confined to a crib most of her short life and had no hair, head sheared to avoid lice. The poem below was written about her.
A small sprout transplanted from China,
you toppled out of the crib, raced out the door, dashed into sports,
embracing soccer, track, cross-country, skiing, volleyball,
running, jumping, digging, striking;
fierce, competitive, impatient, aggressive, bold.
Spanx and sports bra, the daily uniform,
going all out–all the time.
Building strong biceps, sinewy tendons,
Nature’s glitter ; translucent shimmering sweat
crowns your brow, glazes your arms.
A flourishing STEM bud, nurtured in curiosity,
math and science are puzzles to solve.
complicated chemistry formulas,
elaborate derivatives–no problem.
English and history–suet for the birds.
A stunning tiger-lily,
rooted in fairness and compassion
your heart, a vibrant piñata,
burgeoning with raw emotions, jumbled together;
happy, confident, sad, anxious, angry, loving.
You’re an authentic explorer,
propelled by your virtual pinioned,
zeitgeist cloak of inquisitiveness;
restless to break free,
soar, create, love, and chase your dreams.