Anything at All

"Make me pretty"
she pleaded into the night,
hands clasped together,
brow drawn tight.

"Child," a voice answered
from deep in the dark
"you are now just beginning,
a bright little spark.
Why do you ask
things so plain and so small?
For hollow and simple,
when you can have anything at all?

Ask for eyes as wild
as the tossing seas,
as eager as the tide
when it reaches for the shore.

Ask for legs rooted deep,
like a tall branching oak
that stands so strong,
yet bends in the breeze.

Ask for arms as wide
as the sun's rays reach
and as strong as the winds
that come before a storm.

Ask for a spirit unyielding,
like a mountain steadfast,
but a heart just as soft
as the morning's first light.

No, my child,
don't ask for plain and small,
don't ask for simple
when I can give anything at all."