You were at that golden age,
perched between infancy and all that adulthood,
before the world stopped resetting every night
when you closed your eyes and drifted away,
opening them to a new world like a new day.
You loved to pull my braids
and we would throw our arms around each other
and around the neck of the dog who guarded our gates.
I did not understand that you were not my job. 
Like our dog and his drooling jowls
I stood between you and danger. 
But you were fearless,
falling down mountain sides
and climbing up the highest trees,
and there was nothing I could do
and nothing ever stopped you
and I couldn’t follow. 
All my fear I molded into my own armor.
And I am safe
and you are spectacular.