Convergence

Through the bedroom window a February sunrise, fog suspended between pines. Intricate crystals— hoarfrost lace on a cherry tree. My son calls out, awake. We sway, blanket-wrapped, his head nuzzling my neck. Hoarfrost, tree—I point, shaping each word. Favorable conditions: a toddler’s brain, hard data-mining, a system’s approach. Hoar, he hears. His hand reaches to the wallpaper lion. Phenomena converge: warmth, humidity, temperature’s sudden plunge; a child’s brain, objects, sound. Eyes widening, he opens his mouth and roars.