soft-ness

It was not evident
at first
how special it was
to Be
good.

I said soft
and meant
landing.

The cats saw
around me
and fixated themselves
under each of my most careful
footfalls,
short of floating
they weave comfortably
vibrating.

The hummingbird
held himself back
from resting
atop my crown,
settling instead
for a golden thread,
with a tip
of nectar.

I reached inside
my treasure box
and felt
enjoyment
in my collection
and it was greater
than my own

goodness gracious
to hold on to softly.



Photo credited by Francisco Enríquez, 2001 [Public domain].