If I wanted right now I could ask. And you would, no excuses. If I wanted.
If I asked, you would drop the tool from your hands, help me gather debris hacked from our jungle yard – not complaining.
It is not that you lack direction, far from it. Not that your life is so dependent upon mine – as quietly you sit, strumming guitar, serenading dogs lying sprawled in hot sun.
What it speaks to is the quality of person that you are, wholly magnanimous, completely selfless, unfailing.
What it means, dear purveyor of patience, disciple to the sect of loving freedom – is that any would fall short, if compared.
But we do not make comparisons. Morning spins its web into evening, weeks furrow into years, and life will extinguish far too quickly to gain meaning more gratifying than our daytime patter and rituals of the night. And so we slumber, gathering into one another, dreaming in tandem and rising to the urgency of yet another dawn.