I sit here watching her smiling.
Seeing her smile is no new thing to me;
She always smiled in the past
At every chance she got,
But the curve of her mouth
Only served as a rounded basin
To keep her pain from spilling over,
And her twinkling blue eyes
Shone from a sky of unshed tears.
Now she is smiling, even laughing,
Not as a way to keep from crying
But as proof that she survived alive,
And she laughs with the strength
That only comes from enduring what she did:
Endless nightmares and fears
That kept her awake and afraid at night
And that broke her during the day.
And yet, she glows in spite of her brokenness
And loves all her scattered pieces,
Bringing them together to create a mosaic,
A new picture of life and bravery in her smile:
The picture of happiness.