A, Good Morning

Layers of rich sapphire, and bright violet melt into one another as the sun’s golden aura quickly invades their intimacy with overwhelming fluctuations of warmth. The stars retreat into the distance, the moon fades to a faint grey shadow, and the velvety, butter-milk clouds emerge out of the black to re-claim their positions.

Harmonious tweeting from the various species of morning birds dance across the wind, conquering the droning of the city’s bustling vehicle traffic. Barking from friendly, and not-so-friendly dogs at the dog park, and on their early morning walks collaborate with the chirping birds, morphing their soothing songs into a cacophony of chaotic squawking.

An opened kitchen window invites in the brisk air, wafting the scent of maple bacon, crackling like a fire on the skillet, throughout the entire house – slithering its way into the twitching nostrils of the sleeping children.

Dramatic yawns from the newly awakened, adolescent bodies reverberate off of the oak wood walls, and stampede themselves down the spiraling, iron staircase, informing mom and dad that hungry bellies are on the hunt.

Billowing steam from freshly brewed, espresso coffee envelopes the goosebumps on dad’s cold, bare arms, heating his tattooed skin and filling his empty stomach with warm Arabica magic. The dunking of steeped, peppermint tea bags, and the aromatic pages of mom's favorite book, encourages her to slip on her fuzzy, blue slippers, and tiptoe outside to the front deck, where she can shut and lock the sliding glass door, and plop herself down onto the cushioned ottoman - avoiding the inevitable battle royale.

A parade of socked, and bare feet tumble down the stairs, and march themselves, like soldiers ready for war, into the delicious confines of the sunlit kitchen. Predatory fingers bare their teeth, and start snapping at the ten, crispy strips of bacon, while an army of metal forks clash with the enormous, hand-painted ceramic plates that are overflowing with cheesy, scrambled eggs, peppery potatoes, mountains of red, orange, yellow, green, and blue fruits, and buttery towers of syrup-soaked pancakes.

Colorful cardboard cereal boxes are yanked open, and the musical jingle of sugary Fruit Loops falling into glass bowls, mixed with the splashing of two-percent, soy, and almond milk, consumes the home with groggy arguing, smile-raising laughter, loud chewing, excessive gulping, pounding hearts, and a rarity that should never be a rare...

... a, good morning.