Dear Daughter,

The beautiful art of spoken word poetry. Poem below is by Kay, a poet and the founder of Project V.O.I.C.E. (Vocal Outreach into Creative Expression), promotes the use of spoken word as a tool for reaching the world. The poem is called “If I should have a daughter”. Right on. I dedicate this to my future daughter who I hope reads my blog years from now, see all the work I have done, and will be proud to call me her mom. Below I wrote out the poem. The poem is 3 minutes long but keep watching to learn more about the poet Kay.

If I should have a daughter.

Instead of mom, she’s gonna call me Point B.

Because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me.

And i’m going to paint the solar systems on the back of her hands.  So she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “oh I know that like the back of my hand.”

And she’s going to learn, that this life will hit you hard..

in the face. Wait for you to get back up.. just so it can kick you.. in the stomach.

But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs

how much they like the taste of air.

There is hurt here. That cannot be fixed with bandaids or poetry.

So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows,

she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself.

Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small

to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.

“And Baby,” I’ll tell her,

“Don’t keep your nose up in the air like that…

I know that trick, I’ve done it a million times.

You’re just smelling for smoke,

so you can follow the trail back to a burning house,

so you can find the boy who lost everything in that fire….. to see if you can save him.

Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place….. to see if you can change him.”

But I know she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby.

Because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix.

Okay there are a few heartbreaks that chocolate can’t fix.

But that’s what the rain boots are for.

Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it.

I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat,

to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind

because that’s the way my mom taught me.

That there’ll be days like this.

There’ll be days like this, my momma said.

When you open your hands to catch, and wind up with only blisters and bruises;

when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly,

and the very people you want to save.. are the ones standing on your cape.

When your boots will fill with rain, and you’ll be up to your knees with disappointment.

And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you.

Because there is nothing more beautiful

than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline,

no matter how many times it’s swept away.

YOU will put the WIN in win-some… lose-some.

You will put the star, in starting over, and over.

And no matter how many land mines erupt a minute,

be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.

And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting… I am pretty damn naive.

But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar…

It can crumble so easily, but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

“Baby,” I’ll tell her, “remember your momma is a worrier… and your papa is a warrior..

and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes,

who never stops asking for more.”

Remember that good things come in threes….. and so do bad things.

And always apologize when you’ve done something wrong.

But don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.

Your voice is small, but don’t ever stop singing.

And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war & hatred under your door,

and give out handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat,

you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

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