I believe the bird outside my window knows I’m awake
But is never going to make me a cup of coffee

I believe that even as their edges curl and colors fade
Flowers are waiting for us to bow down and smell them 

I believe that love and joy and peace are all the same thing
But there is no word for the silky feel of my dog’s ear

I believe that in every pore I carry the breath of my mother
But the sweet sound of her laughter is fading

~ Robin J. Phillips, Oct. 7, 2021