Journey Round the Sun

little girl

I’m looking at her and she’s just a kid;

Wide-eyed, braid at side

Looking bright to her future.

Tell me baby girl, about your tales and mysteries.

I’ll be sure to write it all down in your book of history

About your unicorns, your friends in the wood

The monsters you hush because they’re just misunderstood

Figments of an ordinary mind

Cut on the bias and sped up with time.


We jet round the sun and my next glance says she’s twelve

Stealing her mama’s lipstick,

Twirling pearls and running from the other girls.

Friday night she’s caught between the play and the hang out

Writing tales of ordinary mysteries

Bred to be solved and foretold and dressed down with marigolds.


Blossoms of springtime burst and she’s sixteen

Caught in that land of in between

More ordinary than ever before

Though she looks intently through the screen

At fireflies playing and swears they call her name

Begging to take her elsewhere, where she too can play the game.

But instead Saturday’s clock strikes nine and she’s being honked at

Outside her window by the boy and Mary-Jane.


Cycle again, she’s twenty-four

Arguing with the landlord through the door

About how she’ll pay rent, she knows it’s due

But it’s so hard playing the game when you’ve got a dream to make come true.

An ordinary life, this she can’t stand

I know it will get better for you,

Here, hold my hand.

It’s mitigated, unjust, unruly, unfair

Drift off, sweet flower, I’ll comb your hair.


Time flies again, she’s thirty-seven

Ten leagues, twelve tracks, three days from heaven.

She’s begging and crying that it’s got to stop

“I’ll do anything” she pleas.

How did you bask in ordinary?

How did you remain unchanged?

When all I did was point you in the direction

Of tall tales and mysteries

And fireflies and their games.


She’s forty-three and it had to stop

So she packed up shop and left the rock

And set sail west to find the wind;

The unicorns, the hum of the engine

The beach-bound barnacles

And mortar for her bricks to build the castle she once had dreamed

Where at its shores lapped mirrored crests

Of waves carrying with them whispers

Of unordinary things.


Photo: Sandra Schmid via Flickr

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