He watches the grass
The leaves, the porch railing
And startles gently at a bird song
Looking around
Wide-eyed
Not quite sure where

He blinks as the soft breeze
Brushes his face
Then notices his feet
Imagine that
Bare feet
Right there in reach
So he reaches

Ah, but then the bird calls again
Where? Where?
Distracted, he loses his grip on one foot
Now where did that go?
He looks at my face
Do I know?
Did I let that foot slip away?
Apparently not
So he searches down his leg again
Ah, there it still is
Waiting for his hand

Both feet now firmly in hand
He illustrates yoga’s happy baby asana
To perfection
Losing himself in the sheer joy
Of hands and feet
Leaves and birds
Sky and eyes

While I lose myself
In the sheer joy
Of him