25/365, 6/30 Danger Lies Ahead

My little one staggers
across wood chips,
eyes locked on her target,
the top of the tallest spiral slide.
We cringe and panic
as she mounts rusted stairs
and scales ladders
without waiting for a spotter.
It seems only yesterday she learned
to stand, took her first steps.
Now she teeters precariously
on the top rung,
catches her balance just in time,
sprints for the next platform,
scales stairs,
hurls herself headlong
into the chute.
We rush to the bottom,
meet her
sliding headlong, face first,
bewildered.
We make eye contact at the bottom,
pregnant pause anticipating a pained wail.
She smiles, bounces up.
We smile back,
as if we'd been thrilled all along.
She rushes back to the ladder.
We watch her go, and hope.