Daughter

So lovingly we had packed the necessary ingredients:
teacups used by my mother's mother.
Scones and biscuits we baked in the kitchen,
when laughter had consumed us,
flour scattered on the floor,
sticky egg whites between our fingers.
And afterward, we emerged outside with basket and blanket.
The sky, a brilliant blue, seemed a canvas
brushed with lush clouds so intensely white
it seemed they were painted in perfection.
In the far distant sky,
clouds huddled in darkness.
The threatening storm seemed far away from us
at that moment, like the first day of school, graduation, and college.
We let our blanket billow in the wind.
I stood, eyes fixed on my daughter.
Her laughter carried in the breeze,
her red skirt twirling, twirling
until she fell on the green, green grass.
Such innocence.
And with the care of a young girl
preparing for her first date,
my daughter placed the porcelain plate
bearing our kitchen creations
in the center of our blanket.
There seemed to be a change in the air,
an impending storm, like adolescence,
threatened its place among us.
Ignoring my insistence
that the teapot was too hot
for such little hands to handle,
she poured a cup with the confidence
of a grown woman
striking out on her own.
But, rain drops caught us each off guard.
Playfully we gathered our belongings
laughing with each drop,
the water so cold against our skin.
Thinking time was on our side,
we sauntered to the porch enjoying the light shower.
Suddenly an onslaught of water
with no rhythm or pattern
just chaotic splashing, crashed over our heads,
and sent us running up the stairs to the porch.
I wondered if our sanctuary, would be strong enough
to withstand the antagonistic clashing
of white electricity,
thunder so loud it shook the floorboards.
We watched the storm as silent witnesses,
she lay in my lap
in the white rocker.
With each roar of the sky, her little fingers clutched my shoulders,
as if in fear that we would be swallowed up.
And after the roar had left us, she would giggle at her own fear.
My nose nestled into the space just above her ear.
Slowly, I breathed in the scent of her hair,
willing myself to remember the freshness
of shampoo mingled with today's sunshine and rain. My lips moved slowly
to whisper a promise.
She would always be my little girl.