Place the honey on the tongue,
   the feather in the palm, the sunlight
      in the hair.
         Call it compassion.

How we take the world and give an acre –
doesn’t all ground touch your same feet?

The lesson happens despite
the language, because speaking happens
without meaning.

Don’t you know
   it gets cold
      in San Francisco?
         Haven’t you been worn
like fog?

I want to allow you the recognition
of your own softening.