That the Little Ones Might Be

She was born to travel,To move from town to townAnd to sit around the campfireSharing the unshiny gifts of the roadWith forever friends whom she just barely met.But for now, she’s bound up at homeWith the care of little ones.Domesticity.What a curse, and what a blessing,For one whose heart longs to be moving,Whose soul needs the deep green of the redwoodsAnd the perfect clear blue of the Caribbean Sea.What a curse, and what a blessing,To sacrifice the thing she isSo that her little onesMight be.