will you linger on my words
as a mother stirs caldo with a big spoon
or café con leche with a little spoon,
as a turquoise-crowned messenger
hovers by bleeding hearts & lupines?
because you're always dwelling in me,
sometimes slowly stirring,
other times flitting on hummingbird wings,
and the little messenger's whispers
may not reach you,
or only a few,
for i have wrapped gifts within gifts
and puzzles to unpack.
though my heart is hidden,
there is always love,
stretching out like a
Sunday morning
cat lying in a sunbeam
trying to cover every dust mote with love.
you are loved
love rushing down the mountain
like cool meltwater streams
you are loved