We were watching
ducks at the pond.
You chatter away,
a mile a minute -
stretched out lazily
on your tummy.
I lay next to you,
the grass tickling my back,
unable to follow
the animated gestures of your fingers.
Gaze drawn instead
to the same lovely face
I had fallen in love with
three decades ago.
The same soft brown curls
bouncing merrily
on your shoulders
as you laugh at something.
Your rosebud lips
rapidly opening and closing
as you describe a duckling's attempt to swim;
Then collapse in peals
of infectious laughter
beside me.
And I find myself smiling
along with you.
There's a rosy blush on your cheeks
from running in the morning breeze;
And then you pause
and turn to look at me,
as if waiting for my answer.
And my breath
catches in my throat
as I see
my own ocean blue eyes
staring back at me,
shining with love and innocence.
Then your chubby fingers
pull at my sleeves -
urging me up;
And I realize with a start
that you reach my waist now.
It seems only yesterday
you first lisped "Dada",
a little bashfully,
and I knew that
I was going to be alright.
That same lilting voice
I'd shift mountains for,
now breaks my thoughts.
"Home daddy!"
you exclaim,
now tugging, a tad impatiently,
at my hand.
I tuck in a stray curl
behind your ear
and swing you onto my shoulders,
an enraptured squeal
filling the air.
And as I do so,
I press a kiss
onto your sunlit curls,
as unruly
as your mother's used to be,
and whisper into them:
"I'm already there.
I see you, my angel,
and I'm there.
I'm home."