Able to sit on your own –
were you able to do that yesterday?
– you play with your toys,
carefully scrutinizing each one,
as though you’re looking at it for the first time.

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.
But this?
This magic moment is to be treasured.

I sit on the floor next to you,
and together we make music.