freedom

She runs fast, and then faster. Her little arms punching back and forth as she sprints from one place to another and then back again. Moving wildly, joyfully and yet somewhat resembling a Tasmanian devil as she goes, leaving swings flying and sand and twigs blowing about as she dashes past and through. Free as a bird to climb and run and then a quick stop to give a kiss or maybe even tattle on some boy who is throwing things to get her attention. Ah to be four again where there is no making sense of things or battling the daily grind but to just live fully, joyfully, boundlessly in the sun and the wind certain that there is order in creation and that the One who brought me here is close enough for a kiss and if necessary to tattle to.