warm spring night

It's a warm spring night.

Windows open. A slight breeze plays with my hair, the smell of night jasmine fills the air. The room is moonlit, casting soft rippling shadows onto the floor.

The neighbor's creamsicle colored cat sits on my back porch and moongazes. Dim light reflects in the cat's eyes as it spots me, slinking away into the tall swaying grass that reflects moonshine as if underwater.

I listen to this song and gaze at the neighbor's cat in the grass and the glow upon the floors, and wonder if every night is like this, and finding it is as simple as seeing the spellcraft that's always right in front of me.

The creamsicle colored cat sits amidst the grass and the jasmine and gazes back, like it's been waiting.