coming back from Massachusets

In the car ride home, I sat quietly and relish my daughter’s voice. She wasn’t feeling so well earlier, she had a slight fever, but we had just given her some Tylenol and I guess it kicked in and she pepped up. I smiled, pretending not to notice her as my heart danced with joy hearing her regurgitate everything that comes to her mind, abcdefghijklmopqrstuvwxyz, itsybitsyspider...downcametherain rowrow...twikletwikle... On and on she goes, in the cutest baby voice. I am amazed each day by her abilities. Just that morning her grandmother taught her to say “its beautiful” after hearing it just once she went around all that morning saying “its beautiful” when she looked at something, as if she really thought about it.

If my eyes were a camera

If my eyes were a
camera,
I would capture Jyoti
every moment that I look at her.
Each smile,
each grin,
and even each cry,
I would capture
her naughtiness,
her sweetness and
her sadness.
I would capture her
prancing in the yard ,
digging the muddy dirt, and
sitting in a puddle,
I would capture her climbing the stairs,
the coffee table and
even the fence too.
I would capture her walking
running and
even falling too.
I would capture every moment
that I look at her and
keep them safely.