But Not Today.

August 16, 2023

One day your hands will be bigger than mine,

With no need for a lift or cleanse.

One day your feet will grow large and swift,

Leaving me behind to run fast with your friends.


One day your muscles will become strong.

You’ll jump and fly with unbounded strength.

One day your lungs will keep you underwater,

And I won’t need to be within an arm’s length


One day your words will become more eloquent than mine,

With the talent to tame lions and kings.

One day your eyes will help you fall in love,

And you’ll forget your, well, just about everything.


One day this bike will become a car,

And all I’ll see is dust.

And I’ll think back to our first step outside,

How exciting it was for both of us.


One day your pictures will make us cry,

Thinking back to when we were so naïve

To think you’d stay little forever

Because parents also don’t want to leave.


But that day is a long way off,

And we embrace your love every single day.

One day you won’t say ‘Mommy’ or  ‘Daddy’ anymore,

But, thankfully, not today.



Steve Cook has spent most of his adult life traveling in three-dimensional motion. He is an accomplished musician, gracing records and stages worldwide for 4 decades, working with a multitude of legendary artists and pushing musical boundaries. Steve has written for major publications, had a syndicated music column, and is thinking of installing a lazy Susan-style desk to keep up with the books he is involved with. Steve is also a husband and soccer dad to two boys with more interesting things to say than most adults. When asked about how he would spend his ideal day, Steve simply responds “More coffee, please.”

Featured image by Minna Autio on Unsplash