I come downstairs, and she doesn’t hear the door open.

or my steps on the stairs, because she is playing the drum set

we keep down here, that I bought for her for her birthday.

She is totally into her music, and the midmorning sun is

soft and honeyed on her shoulders, and there’s a small

smile upon her lips, just lost in the rhythm and the beat.

I stand on the stairs a moment, watching her, in this

moment so pure and free, just doing something that

makes her happy, that releases her mind from flesh.

She finishes and I clap and she blushes, then bows from

the throne. I walk over to her and kiss her head, squeeze

her shoulder, tell her lunch will be ready soon.

She tells me that Jasmine and Jo had talked to her

about playing with them on Saturday Night in town,

and she is so proud, and I am so proud of her, in return.

I walk back up the stairs, as she puts away her drumsticks,

and follows behind me, and for a moment on this Saturday,

all is well, between us and the world and God above.

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