To my younger self,
closing your eyes tight
you could see the moving pictures,
all the colors of your feelings,
your life unfolding from the backseat.

We wanted to tell you
that just as you looked away
it would all be given back to you—
between passing years
and long moments,
new doors to old rooms,
running back down the mountain.

Looking both ways,
out of breath under dark clouds,
crossing those streets,
telling yourself to be brave,
you were never alone.

You made us so proud—
temporary explosions of affirmation
to remind you where you came from.

You are the astral child—
your heart
rupturing in the sky
like northern lights,
a green signal from above.