missionary kid

Her heart's a hopeful airport

a thousand strangers scurry through.

She checks their bags and sends them

on their way to somewhere new.

Her mind's a busy airport,

so they try to travel light.

Extra baggage is expensive

and they'd rather skip the line.

Her soul's a lonely airport,

missed connections to reroute,

for every person who comes in

is on their way back out.

morning

I step into the warm, misty morning,

and the air twirls my hair in its fingers.

I kiss you goodbye, and you hold me

like a big bunch of flowers.

Last night's rain clings to my skin,

but the sweet sunlight grips my heart tighter.

I'm learning to listen,

to let myself be loved and be lighter.

candlelight

I turn meat in a pan

and watch the sides brown.

I light a candle

and sit down.

I observe my abode

and think tender thoughts, 

wooden spoons, welcome homes,

winter boots, metal pots.

I cut up some carrots

and make up the bed,

set the table for two,

picture you in my head.

Calm, content

to watch and wait,

to feel the warm glow

of candlelight.