Postcards to the Universe

It wasn’t a click or a card in the mail, Or a gift-wrapped box from a seasonal sale. At almost sixteen, her world moves lightning speed, With so many dreams and so much to lead. Yet she carved out a silence, a space in her day, To craft something thoughtful and send it my way. No longer the scribbles of a child’s small hand, But a piece of the person she’s grown to command. It’s in the precision, the choice of the thread, The hours of effort, the thoughts in her head. She did