Ayla at Two
Ayla at Two
With a fistful of raisins and
Chocolate-flavored goatee,
Your favorite Dora tee shirt
Splotched red from your spaghetti lunch,
We sit on the floor together as
You climb on up for a quick fix of Mommy,
A moment of squeeze,
And I gather you up
As you tell of something wonderful
In your lovely language of syllabic sound and
I tell you I know
Because I do.
You smile at me then,
Your grin like the wedge of a tangerine,
Sweet and juicy and
Pretty enough to eat, so I do.
I gobble you up until
You scramble away giggling,
Sated for the moment,
Busy feet wandering on
To other happenstance and adventure.
Tireless fingers,
Testing, trying,
Reckoning your world within the
Workings of a brand-new beguiling toy.
Your sunny, funny little face,
Scrunched up in concentration
Until you get it,
And you laugh your jingle-bell laugh,
Rejoicing in doing it,
Getting it, mastering it,
Mistress of the World at last.
You say, “Look, Mommy! See, Mommy!”
(Your conquest only real if Mommy sees.)
But with the swiftness of infancy,
You suddenly wail and cry out loud
When you couldn’t get it to go again,
It stopped without reason or repose.
So, I scoop you up,
The second time in as many breath-beats
And my heart swells,
Too big for the space it’s allotted because
Knowing I, too, need the consolation,
You gently pat my back as I hold you,
Head on my shoulder,
Tears abated for now,
And after a time of
Rocking and swaying you say,
“I wuf you, Mommy,”
And the moment turns
Perfection into itself,
Immaculate,
As it boasts its way
Through us,
Bursting in the center of
Our one heart.
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