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.