The elderly man sits in the predawn light, at his decrepit old kitchen table, between an oversized and opened screened window and an ancient screened door which is opened to the backyard, but not to the insects who live there.
Sitting in near darkness, he can feel the morning’s soft breeze entering his kitchen and caressing his over-warm skin, as it passes into the room.
When light seems to rise, birds begin to gather in the large old tree, which lives just outside the door, and one by one they gently flow from the tree’s branches, into the green grasses and purple violets who thrive in the unkempt yard beyond the door.
Their chittering chattering chirps,begging for last night’s cornbread, soon become a wonderful chorus of angelic proportion.
As the old man sits and observes this wonder, a clear and beautiful voice rings from his memory: “Did you remember to sleep last night?”
Thusly, his new day begins.
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