A Sister's Wonder

They wonder. When they look at you. What do you see?

When your eyes move and they scan the world. When they take in the reflections of light, and form shapes that project into your mind. What do you see?

When people talk about things, just daily conversations. About the weather, about the time. About their friends, about their life. What do you hear?

When the scent of the rich ground after the rains fills up people’s nostrils. When we walk by our favorite bakery, when we pass my favorite coffee shop. What do you smell?

When the soft fur of our kittens rub against your leg, when you knit and sow, when you touch the empty canvas; a palette and brush in your other hand. What do you feel?

And when breakfast, lunch and dinner come. And you eat the same thing over again, when we buy you blueberry cheesecake, when we go out for burgers and fries. What do you taste?

That’s what people ask. As if you were an alien from outer-space. As if you weren’t human.

And for a while, they made me think you weren’t human too; when I was little and dull and I did not understand.

But as I spend my days with you. Looking at you and listening to you. All my life I’ve known you, and I have always understood you, even when you speak a little funny.

You look at things and I know what you see. You hear people talking and I know what you hear. You smell the scent of fresh baked bread and I know. You take the brush and you dip it in color. You bite down on a burger and taste the pickle between its layers.

And I’ve learned that you’re human too.

You see colors like other people do, but just sometimes you don’t quite understand.

And you feel what other people do, but just sometimes you don’t quite know what to do.

You hear when people talk about you, and you yell because you don’t like it. Because you feel sad when they say mean things about you, but just sometimes you don’t quite know what to say.

And when you don’t quite know, neither do other people. So, they think that you’re strange and walk away from you.

But I’ve known you all my life. And I had once trotted behind you and followed your steps. And I grew up and gained a little wisdom. And you’ve grown up little by little, trying to comprehend this strange world.

Though I understand you. Though I listen and talk to you.

Sometimes, I look at you and wonder.

Do you love me too?

Author's Note

Critiques and reviews are very much welcome