You buzz through the kitchen, a dervish.
Three ovens going, chopping, slicing, tasting.
Pachelbel’s Canon playing in the background
The sun sets.
I read in my rocking chair and watch
And you are worried that I am fed,
Mortality sits in the corner of our living room.
Always there, becoming familiar to us.
All of my hopes and dreams,
My fears and weaknesses.
Are crowded in that kitchen with you.
As you nimbly navigate around them.
This house is bathed in love,
Your precious love.
I yearn to match it, exceed it.
The only competition we allow.
Another day of the pure joy,
Of loving you.
Thank you God
For this day of life.