She Was Given to Me to Bring Me Joy

Sometimes I sit
and stare into her eyes,
I'm looking for something
that's hidden, impossible to find.

"You used to be so tiny.
You used to be my babe.
You still have years to go,
but look how you've already changed..."

She laughs an unaltered six year old laugh
and tells me I'm just so silly.
"I'm still your baby. Your big girl baby.
I just act much older than I am really."

What changed first?
Was it her hair? Her chubby cheeks?
Her round belly? Her padded feet?
It's been years, but it feels like weeks...

Since she was my baby.

She loves her shoes,
Her clothes, and fancy things.
She wants to wear makeup and jewelry,
updo's and skinny jeans.

I urge her to slow down.
"Enjoy being a child."
She agrees she will, but she longingly wishes,
that she could age faster, all the while.

I wish I could have bottled
all of her funny words and smiles.
But I still can look into her unchanged eyes,
and hear her perfect laughter...

my precious gift of a child.