Her delicate skin is like the unprinted snow. Be quiet with her soul. For it is fragile and its innocence unbound.
You can never leave it untarnished, but please do not bind it and hide it from the world. That will not protect her from the brutal storm. She must be free to stumble and fall.
Be present when she fails and dust the tragedy from her blouse. Allow her freedom and she will grow more beautiful with each spring.
John M. Valdez www.facebook.com/poetryofjohnvaldez