The First Snowfall and Being Fully Alive

She runs diagonal across the yard.
A path trails behind her where her steps have separated the snow.

She plays and pretends.
As if no one else is aware or around.
In the middle of the afternoon 
in the middle of a city, 
in the first snowfall of the season that clings to the ground.

She lifts her face to the sky, 
tongue out,
arms wide, 
unashamedly basking in the glory of the moment.

Her cheeks are rosy as she twirls and spins.

She tears off her leopard fleece hat 

as if the only way to take in the full weight of the moment 

is to feel her hair wet and flat against her scalp.

I quick run, grab the camera 
stand at the schoolroom window
and snap photos.
She is oblivious and beautiful.
And then I hear it, the song-words tumbling from her lips.
The phrase she has been repeating in a rising and descending melody.

"I'm free. I'm free. I'm free."

And from behind venetian blinds, 
this momma-heart soars a little higher
because a daughter today has found wings 
that have flown her to simple and elusive heights of  
just being. dwelling. enjoying. reveling.
Today, a daughter has reminded a mother how to live.

The glory of God is man fully alive. 

- St. Irenaus