Wonderous Joy

Early morning. I head toward the walking trails near my home. The air moves around me in blossoming brilliant arcs within the sun rays of a new day. My soul takes on a lightness, a will to float and play upon the clouds. I pass a group of children who come into the newly lit day as bright and buoyant as any bird who plays for the love of fun. They are frolicking about their front yards. I see a toddler, probably about three years old. Around his shoulders is his baby quilt, worn as a cape might be, as if all those cozy memories of him and his mother have given him superpowers. His eyes shine like pebbles washed by the ocean waves, and his smile ignites inner laughter. A young girl stands perfectly still, her eyes following a bird in flight. She watches as children do, with that look of love and awe. Her eyes stay with the bird, the beating wings capturing her mind in the most calming of ways, the same way soft waves on a beach do. Another child shatters the peace, running and screaming with delight. He whoops into the dew misted air. Kids’ heads turn; a dog barks; a duck skitters out further into the pond. Joy, that quiet form of contentment, fills my heart as I remember how I felt as a child. within each of us is that child who once looked at the world with wonderous joy