Soon.

Pretty soon she won't be two.

Soon boo boo's won't be healed from kisses
and the most comfortable place in the world won't be
nuzzled up to her mother.

Soon broccoli's won't be little trees
and going to the doctor won't feel instantly better
when you know you always get a lollipop.

Soon she won't beg mommy and daddy to
"Watch me! Watch me!" and we
may find ourselves wishing for her attention.

Soon she will run to explore the world in front of her
and feel less inclined to set her tiny hand in her mother's
as we walk side by side.

Soon we won't hear the pitter patter of little feet
running to get into mommy and daddy's bed
where everything is safe.

Soon her little body will get bigger,
as it grows to match the world above her
and she will view it with eyes that are not two years old,
that understand more

that understand that there is good and bad
that there is hard work and choices,
rewards and consequences

And this mother's wish is that no matter how many gray hairs
her or I have,
she will always know that coming home,
she is always my little girl.