Your tiny hands
have learned to play your toy piano.
With each note,
you grin with pride and glee.
You look up at me,
as if to say, “Are you watching, Mama?”
I smile back with words of praise
and you squeal in delight
as you play your next song.
I stop what I’m doing
and watch you play.
I forget the laundry that needs folding,
the dishes that need washing,
the growing list of “to dos”
that suddenly seem less important.
All of it can wait.
This magic moment is to be treasured.
I sit on the floor next to you,
and together we make music.