The window, meadowlands spreading out,

there is so much lavender and so much sun,

rainbow arc touched masks strewn in fields to sprout

love? Hope? Anything could be growing here.

Close call reminder: wind blown sprinkled seeds

travel faster and farther than those planted

plain to fairy ferry to green girl's house

its mysteries folded soft, sweaters of the mind,

gone missing...where to find the love? the hope?

That depends on how wide your heart, how open

bleeding tears and fears, a grounded grip home

takes you right here, right now,

to a hot mess monkey, blessed with grace:

I should like your middle name less than my first.