We greet each other with a grin (hello),
shuffle closer (how are you?) and embrace (so nice to see your face again).
We build sounds together in a tower –
stack them up, click them any way that fits,
then rearrange again.
String them together and pull them along,
take them apart and play catch with the bricks.
‘Bu beh’, you throw.
‘Neh?’ (have you seen this?) I point, beckoning.
‘Uh oh’, you say.
‘Uh oh’, I echo – new today.
In the broken pieces of song that have been slung on the floor
we find words that sparkle and shine.
We grasp the new treasure in our tiny hands,
clutched to our chests – this one is mine.
We watch wide-eyed as the world before us grows and grows,
and head in different directions to explore (you take that tree, I’ll start at this bend).
Then hand in hand we walk along the path together,
leaving a stream of chatter trailing behind.
We don’t need to talk to understand,
just what it means to have a friend.