September 20, 2013
A tiptoe into a soft creation of new
A hand shake and mucho gusto
Pleased to meet you, today.
Sun is gentle, light
Pressing itself in between the cracks in the windows, pouring in, like it’s made of liquid, until it floods the room.
On weekdays our mornings are frantic and hurried.
Lunches get packed, heads get kissed, and we’re out the door.
Forgotten dishes still warm with oatmeal will get hardened in the sink as the car is put in reverse.
Here we go.
Bump. Bump, vroom.
But Saturday morning is what mornings are made of. Spun from sun and silk and sleeping in, and Saturday.
Oh sweet Saturday.
We celebrate with charisma, and the warm sound of a fresh record plays the soundtrack of our day. We celebrate with a box of sweetness or a walk to a new place, an adventure where we all get along, we gravitate towards love, and kisses, and goodness. Because there is nothing to do except be alive.
We draw a breath, hold it in our lungs until our sides feel like bursting, then let it out in a release.
This is it.
We are it.