The awakening

He awoke to the brush of her fingers across his brow.

“Come.”

Peering blearily at the bedside clock. “Come? Where? Now? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes. Now. It is always now. Come and see.”

She pads silently from the room. He drags aside the sheet and follows.

Outside the sun’s first rays kiss the treetops. She is standing at the garden’s centre, arms akimbo.

“See. Hear. Smell.”

For an instant there is something. He does see. He thinks he sees. Something.

A magpie warbles, the breeze whispers and she is dancing in a swirl of tiny blue … petals? Butterflies?

“How can you …? Why …?”

“Hush. There is no why. Because … everything.”

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Thanks to jenimcmillan and Rumi.