Love is a mysterious thing
44 minutes and the soup is done
Sunlight piercing red hibiscus juice
Holding onto the rose bush with pierced
Hands
If only you
Could stop
Listening at the door
Of time and
Other people’s
Head
Maybe you would be
Still like this morning chickadees
Again
Dancing on the branches that belong to the
Wind
Knowing the water
Is coming
But you can soar
Through the sky
And find shelter
In a tree’s body and make a way home
Turns out the soup
Is done
And the hot nectar and fat can feed
Whoever wants it
Including you