Her hands and the heart of a tree

A tree with her hand prints and lines that always stayed with me from ‘ The heart of  the tree’….

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For song and mother-croon of bird

In hushed and happy twilight heard

The treble of heaven’s harmony

These things he plants who plants a tree

– Henry Bunner

 

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Crumbling mountains

“ Alone” , she announces .

Armed with the glue stick, she begins .

“ Can I help ?” , I ask .

“ Don’t interrupt”, her little voice is stern .

“ Your mountain is crumbling”, I tease.

She picks it up and chirps , “ It’s beauuuuutiful , mama . I made it .”

There she goes again ! So much to learn from my 22 month old.

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( Thank you Lamzu for the art kit you put together , hugs )

Life lessons

Stains on her clothes

Scribbles on the floor

Bruises on her knees

She’s learning .

Bananas over apples

Shoes , not sandals

Peppa over Pinocchio

She’s voicing .

Welcoming snuggles

Tearful bye byes

That angry “ excuse me”

She’s expressing .

“Nothing happened”

“No problem”

Not to worry

Self talk when she’s scared

She’s self soothing .

Learning , voicing ,

Expressing , becoming ,

growing , teaching .

 

 

Tuning

Middle C , quivering thumb

It doesn’t sound right

Treble clef , hurried scale

Something’s off .

Bass clef , stern reminder

Needs to be tuned

Both hands fumbling

Starlight waltz blurred

The twinkle from her eyes

Waltzing down her cheeks

Needs to be tuned , yes ,

the tension in those strings,

the piano and her heart .