If She Has To Leave

If she has to leave,
I hope she can lay back in a field of 
daisies,
a river streaming with light bubbles
at her fingertips.

If she has to leave,
I hope she can listen to music
with the tune of the breeze
and the melody of the sun. 

If she has to leave,
I hope she can eat sugar plums
all day long
without feeling ill. 

If she has to leave,
I hope she can breathe in
cherry blossom air
and think of the old farm back in Germany,
where she spent her childhood days. 

If she has to leave,
I hope she can read books of light,
feel the warmth that is held in her hands.

If she has to leave,
I hope she can sing of sweet honey,
and taste the syrupy sugar 
in her mouth.

If she has to leave,
I hope she can dance on a floor
of clouds,
and laugh and remember the little girl
back down on Earth
who wishes her grandmother
was still there.