Cats and kids run together across daybreak's dewy grass, a lively, giggling, pouncing riot of energy. We tumble out of the house, upturned by the urge to stretch and squeal and see just what this day is made of.
The world is here and waiting, fresh for us after a night of puckish plotting, inviting us to a game of hide and seek. "Count to ten, then catch me if you can," it shouts. We close our eyes and play along, breathe deep, then burst out after the trail of wonder.
Oh, there is a sweetness, a rightness, to begin the day this way.
This is the play that leads to prayer,
arms wide open prayer,
cartwheels of prayer.