Eyes open. Peek outside.
The sky is apricots. In the front yard the giant tropical tree is in bloom. Bright red flowers shade the sunrise and drip petals over the grass. The mango tree out back is in harvest, thudding down breakfast, lunch, and dinner. A couple land in the trampoline and bounce in glorious defiance of gravity before they succumb to it.
The air is laden with last night’s thunderstorm, rotting mangos, and a neighbor’s jasmine tree I can never locate. If you open your mouth, you can taste the air. I’m not kidding; it’s sugar on the tongue.
One child sleeps while the early bird wrestles the stillness of a new day. Last night he laughed while slumbering, but can’t remember the joke. Finally the little one emerges fresh, straight out of a dead man’s sleep, declaring with a booming voice that he just had the silliest dream.
Toast beckons. Then coffee.
Mediation is traded for the present moment.
Feet touch the ground on the way to hugs and kisses.
Can the beginning last forever?