Wildflowers

She sits at my feet as I peck on the computer.  It seems a long time as I peek over my shoulder at her.  She is working on something.
I am not real concerned as it is keeping her busy as I continue to try to write all the words that are popping into my heart like wildflowers... beautiful, and yet scattered like rays of sun showing through a leaded glass window.
She continues quietly as I think about daisies bowing their heads to the wind.
And there it is
all of the paper is now off the crayon...
no more words that say "blue crayon".
In her hand she snaps it quietly in half and is now on her way
And I think back to JaciAnna and remember her snapping all the crayons into little pieces, never really coloring until now that she is older.
Did my girls do this?
Did they snap all the crayons?
I can not remember that they did...
I don't think they had crayons until they were older.
So she touches the chair tells you to sit.
Talks about soccer balls, french fries and friends.
We draw them all, as Conner colors pages from color books that were left behind by some little person that is now grown.
And the daisy suddenly raises its head in the stillness of the wind that is now gone.

note the box of crayons on the left

note the little pieces of paper on the floor

Thanking God for the color of rainbows in a box.