My Daughter Plays the Piano

My daughter plays the piano and I am carried through time. I hear the first chorded cry, after the lifesong of her body broke open my womb and burst forth like a melody. Our voices, separate, but blended as one. The movement of her youth is passed. A lively staccato that made us dance and…

The Sleeping Face of My Beautiful Boy

After the lullaby, I see the sleeping face of my beautiful boy, two years old. And at once, all the world is still. Time moves forth from this moment in reluctant ripples. Slow-moving reflections of memories, past and future that will become a whole life. Separate from my own, but always flowing in and out…