the way to my heart

The way to my heart is to be invited in from the rain and given a seat by the fire, fire that flushes my face with heat and crackles in my ears, and offered a hot cup of tea or rich mug of coffee- the warmth of your hospitality covering me like a well-worn quilt. To be sat with or left alone- a loveliness in either direction, but if left alone, not for good, but you to return and sit with me then.  To hear stories of truth and reminders of hope whether told straight or meandering- forthright or rambling….the sound of your voice….my gaze to the flame- both flickering in synchronal agreement. Perhaps to finally speak and say what I must- a truth I did not know until I spoke it out loud there by the light of your fire.