For the Dancing and the Dreaming

She dances for me at least three times a day.

She tells me of her fears.

She recounts her dreams.

I’m not always present to see the waltz or hear the words that describe what goes bump in the night.

My eyes trained on the chicken that I’m currently burning.

My ears listening to the internal dialogue about the way I should have run that 3pm meeting.

As I finish her bath last night I pull the plug on the drain.

I grab the clothes she will wear to bed and wander in and out of the bathroom while she enjoys the last few moments of water play.

I catch her then on her knees and elbows, chin supported by her hands, simply watching the water swirl down the drain.

“Momma come look! The water is dancing”.

I have heard her.

In that moment I am moved.

Me now down on my knees. Us together watching the water twirl and move around the silver drain. Moments it takes until the last drop has left the tub.

“Momma can we do it again?”  she asks, as the smile spreads across her face in recognition of the secret wonder we now share.

“Tomorrow Ellery Jane we will watch the water dance”.

Yep tomorrow I will watch the dancing, I will listen to the dreams.

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