Child of Joy

For my youngest

Odds stacked impossibly high---
five percent of five percent to
live let alone thrive. She blinked,
grew wings, and has flown ever since.
No matter the storm clouds that gathered
or lightning flung or tremors shaking;
grounded she always was. Fought
her way up slippery slopes with a song
keeping both her feet and heart alight.
A survivor, no laurels for her: she wears
her own unique hats with flair.
She ticks all the parental boxes
on a mom's checklist, adds more of her own
and checks them off as well.
She is pure light with an open soul.
She is joy.