I spy a long rectangular patch of bright sun caressing my living room floor.
Off I dash to get my purple quilt, my silky mat on which I do daily yoga.
I capture the visiting beam and lie down, face up, fully intending to go into corpse pose and sink into silent, soul refreshing , heart centering, glorious, deep breathing, total relaxation.
The warm sun full in my face, a myriad of blurry colors and patterns reminiscent of a kaleidoscope reflect through my lashes.
I repeatedly open and shut my eyes, examining all the stages in between.
The rainbows alter; I find the best colors are at eyelids half mast.
Relaxing into corpse pose I entertain myself a fleeting moment with my kaleidoscopic lashes.
Too soon, the sun shifts, the colors fade, the experience is over, I resume my day.
Smiling, I hug the memory to myself as a freely given delight; a tiny present from the universe.
I bask daylong in the recall of this ethereal phenomenon, this surprisingly colorful tiny pleasure.
A pleasure born only from a willingness to pause my day, a seamless meshing of my eyelashes, the right window, the right moment, and the perfect strength of springtime sun.