Sometimes the air clears.
And the world goes still.
Like nature is listening.
And the Kookaburras stop calling in that fuzzy, early morning light.
They seem to sense the leaves have dropped.
Just a touch.
And the branches in the gums outside our verandah relax.
For a moment.
And in the distance a breeze scuttles over the rocks and flattens the ocean swell.
Our dog lifts his shaggy white head and looks at me for no other reason but the knowing,
And he wags his tail as it stiffens and curls.
Because we both are aware.
That you are awake.
We can hear your head lift off the pillow with a soft groan,
And you stretch your legs
I picture your brown sugar coloured toes curling.
And then you laugh that little laugh to yourself.
Just because you are awake.
No other reason than you are awake.
What a joy!
A simple joy.
For you and more for us.
The dog looks at me again and his eyes widen and his tail wags harder.
And I know he is saying;
‘Go and get her out of bed.’
He wants to see her smile.
As do I.
It breaks the clouds and stops the rain.
It seeps into your veins and opens your heart.
Like melting butter on a white and yellow egg.
I’d do anything for that smile.
“Ï’ll go and get her boy.”
And he jumps on the couch and furiously starts chewing on my ears.
And I open her bedroom door.
It is like walking onto a stage as the spotlight shines,
And that damn smile breaks my soul into a million, glorious pieces.
“Coffee my love?” I ask.
And the Kookaburras take a breath, and the trees stand tall again.
For a few seconds it seems a sadder place.
But it is only a tick of the clock.
The dog knows.
She is always smiling.