You and I, we are composed of different notes, 
my song is that of a small bird, twittering as it dances from branch to branch, 
you are made of deeper tones, more guttural and masculine, 
but though our tunes be different, harmony need not escape us 
if we listen to each other, move to the other's music 
our voices can carry into symphony. 
 
We expect a seed to mimic the parent plants it came from, 
share the same loves and laughs, 
but I have studied flowers and seedlings don't always conform to expectations, 
surprising us more frequently than not, 
when you chose to have me, you must have considered what you were combining, 
I am very pleased with the result, a dazzling of color and a love for life 
 
I can not help who I am, what I am, 
and if I could I wouldn't want to change a thing, 
I just wish I could bring you to see this beauty you have bred, 
an orchid Cinderella, that hid herself for far too long, 
tried to conform to her surroundings, 
your world that you gave her with open arms. 

But we are of different habitats, and I can not survive in yours, 
though I have tried and tried again. 
My whole being consumes itself with creativity, 
with pouring a part of myself into everything I do, 
that is what I am and that is what I shall always be, 
my masterpiece is myself 
and I will work for all the days I have to bring that to perfection 

Perhaps someday you will see it, see how beautiful and true your child is, 
see how much she loves you and tries to please you, 
but she has learned by losing a part of herself that she can no longer mold herself, 
mold herself into what others desire she be, 
to survive she must be free, free to be what she was born to be, 
free to live her life as her own. 
 
© Kirsten Shoshanna Traynor 2002