by Christina Joy
LIKE HER 1.
Known to be out there.
Known to be foolish in the way you unapologetically blast who you are.
You have my attention
Unintentionally I give it to you.
You demand it.
Never asking gently.
You are strong and draped in beauty.
If you were a face,
it would beam bright like Moses on the mountain after talking to God.
You are rich, textured, luscious.
You are tulips, children, and sunshine.
You are McDonald’s and cheese.
Lemons and pineapples.
You are school buses and tractors.
Lions and cobras.
You are fierce, yet gentle.
You carry communities and dress individuals.
You are here for the young and the old.
You are golden, mustard, neon and pale.
You highlight and you tame
Yellow is your name.
LIKE HER 2.
She is simply delicate,
the way she rises and falls from a ground that either denounces or fosters her growth.
She’s so beautiful,
the way she seeks after sunshine like her life depends on it.
She enjoys company.
Laughing at rain,
and dancing at noonday.
Her loveliness makes other things lovely
When she’s outside, she doesn’t strut by.
She waits for you to come to her.
She is of the pursued.
She is found even when you weren’t looking for her.
She draws you in but she’s not seductive about it; she’s radiant and captivating.
She is the substance of romance and friendship.
I want to be like her.
Personally, I prefer to see her outside where she belongs.
My mom prefers her indoors,
Sculpted into a fragrant masterpiece sitting on our table.
Sometimes her presence even makes the food taste better
She brightens the home and captures the eyes of many,
Not just for her beauty, but her very essence–her uniqueness.
In a vase, she doesn’t compete for attention.
She loves to champion every flower.
Each one of her friends are very different,
But just as
as she is.
Hence, onlookers usually complement the “flowers,”
not just the “one”.
Together, they are perfect.
I want to be like her
Side by side with others,
basking in the rain and sun,
persistent to try and grow in every kind of terrain,
and adding color to places that otherwise were slightly more dull.
I think if she were an instrument, she would be a piano.
Chords and melodies flowing from the pedals of her being.
She exists to serve.
She lives for every smile she sees as people walk past her. It warms her like the sun.
She provides a landing strip for every buzzing bee that seeks her pollen.
She loves to be a bearer of life,
and takes pride in how she was once just a seed.
She’s a mentor to those still growing,
A friend for those who already have.
She doesn’t fear when she wrinkles and her petals start to leave her.
She’s lived her life to the fullest.
She knows that others will pick up right where she left off,
Uniquely and delicately.
I really … want to be like her.