A Breath in the Garden

Stillness held me for a long time. Then, warmth gathered in my chest. A deep, quiet pulse began. I shifted my weight, feeling the firm earth under my front paws. My mane stirred not from the breeze, but from my own slow breath. Just below me bloomed clusters of small orange blossoms. I lowered my gaze, steady and unhurried, and gently touched a slender petal with the tip of my heavy paw. It yielded softly. Beside me, the green baboon figure remained motionless against the open sky. I am awake. Solid, grounded, and alive.