morning

When I was a little boy, my abuelo taught me to do something very important when I wake in the night and am afraid of the dark.

"Little salt,” he said, "If you wake and it's dark all around you, don't be afraid. 

Open your eyes wide and say, 'I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dirt' three times. 

When you finish saying these words, everything will be okay. 

I promise."

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dirt.

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dirt.

I am salt. I am light. I am made from the dirt.

My abuelo was right, as he usually is.

I am not afraid.

Everything is okay.

The morning breeze blows from the sea across the fields through the open window of our old school bus.

I feel it on my body.

The first light of dawn sparkles off a dew drop on the cracked glass.

There is so much beauty in the smallest of things.

The curtain mamí sewed for me blows inward and goes back to its place again. 

It’s as if the day is waving good morning to me.