hot nectar

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