maybe...

This was originally posted on Sunday, but has been back-posted to the proper date. My apologies. -- Ed.

      Sometimes, life has this funny way of surprising you, like a glance out the window to see a bunny on your doorstep, still but for the twitching of whiskers. And though you know that sooner or later, you'll need to leave the house, or you'll maybe drop something and scare the little creature away, or maybe you'll just turn away and the little one will be gone, there's still that precious moment of peace, just sitting still and watching the bunny's own stillness. Almost like a breath could be too much sound. It's serene, in its own way.
      Or maybe you're not surprised at all sometimes, especially looking back, but it feels just as good. You were just leaving milk out at first, until you went out and got some kibble and cat treats, toying with the idea of maybe getting a litter box or maybe taking a trip to the vet. You carefully maneuvered each small step along the way, but not for a second did it make your smile any less bright when the little stray first set foot inside your door, nuzzling your leg as he cautiously walked by.
      You were ready, but you never stopped to think about it, and so you were still surprised, too, in a way, when it all came together. Maybe that's just how life is: we can never truly make the most out of a surprise unless we're in, some way, ready for a surprise.
      Heh, I know. I like paradoxes too much. But you still enjoy it when I find them.
      Anyway. These are the thoughts in my head as the rain taps gently on our tent, and you sleep smiling in my arms, and the gray twilight kisses you all the ways I wish I could, but I don't want to wake you, looking so peaceful, so serene in your own way.
      Maybe you'll feel this gentle squeeze just the same.