Humming Orchids

Just because my husband irons and cooks,
leaves me love notes every other day,
and sends me on week-long vacations,
doesn’t mean i’m always up
for a swing in the park or afternoon tea.
Just because i dumped my baggage
into the pitch of night and now bathe
under a star studded sky
doesn’t mean a cartwheel and a smile
are always in order.
Just because you burnt your toast,
lost your cat in the fire,
and broke-up with your boyfriend
all on the same day,
doesn’t mean I have to fix it.
Though I’ll probably want to.
Just because I can hear flowers sing,
touch lightning with my tongue,
smell the rising apocalypse and
read your soul with a looking glass
doesn’t mean i’m not meant for this place.
It just means sometimes I am quiet-
the ears of my heart riveted
to humming orchids
as I sit in my Amish rocker
convincing myself to stay.

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