Jones Spiderman

The day is fuel.
It could reveal anything
Everything is possible.

Outside there is wet, heavy air. Raindrops tremble like mysterious candies on the leaves all around us. Jones is in his Spiderman costume.

We head up the street toward daycare and the beeping of a truck backing up awakens Jones’s spider-sense. He tells me it is the sound of somebody being electrocuted and that he needs to protect them, and so he runs off through all that is damp and green, to a fire hydrant where furious motions take place and an electrocution is narrowly averted.

And then Spiderman and I arrive at the back playground of the daycare, and the children flock to the superhero. They surround him. They’re cheering, jumping up and down– their perfect faces now seeming even a little more perfect. The daycare worker asks Jones to take his mask off and so he does.

I’m Peter Parker now!

And then he begins to run around the yard, again and again. So alive, so happy in this opportunity to be of this world. And each time he passes he gives me a high-five, and all the other children, now a part of this running, spinning, ring of joy, too, are also giving me high-fives. And if this is not a blessing, I cannot imagine what one might be.

Everything so very light and beautiful, as if the morning itself were lifting free of the earth and floating into dream.