My Relationship With My Daughter
As Interpreted by Planetary Influences
All her planets are in Earth signs.
She is rooted like a tree to the ground
while I—restless butterfly—am never
still or quiet. I weave nests through
her branches, use her leaves as camouflage
from danger. A tree, this tree, holds steady:
no need to roam the Earth
when one is Earth.
No search for solid ground
drives her. Fire is anathema.
Water flows freely above and below.
Like me she gulps at air but
our mutual space has none.
Without air, no respite: we choke
and claw in desperate struggle.
I have learned to do without air on occasion
for the pleasure of standing with her on Earth
but she, needing none of my elements,
chooses time and again to breathe.