13

My dear Asha

13 years have slipped silver-fish quick

Through our fingers since

You announced your arrival with the quietest

Of cries on a cold Jharkhand morning

Today I see a young woman

Quick-silver mind, voracious book-swallower

Looking back at who I was at your age

I catch-breath awe at your spick-span-neat school-books

Your easy joy in explaining a mathematical concept or

A set of grammatical terms

Especially when you have a pupil or two
As you work the white-board

From whence came such as this?

With bow in hand music flows

Your inner ear attuned

Discipline added

Multiplied in my sight as a miracle

You reading notes off a page and playing them 

First time

Like my eyes seeing pictures 

From small squiggles of black on white

Speak nothing of the deeper grace, the kindness of heart
Still developing, still questing forward

Dear daughter
Dear child of Christ
Drink deep and live full

Thirteen sun-spins are done
We step into the next today
Your mother and your brother and I
(and many others besides)
Are so very glad
For you