My daughter will be dangerous. Sometning raised tall and wild, thorned and eautiful. Like honeysuckle - nourishing to som and poisonous to others. My daughter will be sale ouse tole or be and ye ors some not obeying. She will not be a delicacy for someone to covet. Her worth will not be weighed in admiration, but in the fullness of her heart. My daughter will be dangerous because she will know that love is not built with fear, and she will know the boundaries of her own permission. My daughter will be dangerous like brave things are. She will know that threats come dressed as desperate men, and she will learn to laugh in the face of those who believe her to be weak. You will not silence someone raised to roar. She will know the ways I've failed, the times I've fallen, and I will walk beside her until we fly together. And when she wonders who she is, I will trace each of her fingertips with my love. I will hold her hands in my own and I will remind her that she is everything. I will honor her from scraped knees to broken heart. I will love her from before her first breath, and beyond my last. She will be dangerous, not because she is my daughter ut because of who she is herself.