An Old Soul

An old soul
or a wizened spirit
either way
her knowledge runs deep
like the rivers of ancient lands
her eyes sweep over me
and determine my anguish
understand my pain
her hands gently stroke my arm
as she seeks to calm me
to sympathize with me
this ageless soul
residing in such
a petite body
a tiny frame

I look down
meet her eyes
and see me
the me I used to be
when I had hope
and truly understood love
before abandonment painted me
pessimistic
and death taught me
callous truth

she is beautiful
such an old soul
such a heavy spirit
my special daughter
infusing purity into
my whirlwind reality

I wonder if she is
my protector
my encourager
if He knew I needed a reason
to keep trudging
to keep trying
and delivered this beautiful gift
to keep me aware
alive
encouraged
inspired