I received your air hugs—
kept them safe inside my bags,
then portioned each soft gift in two:
some became the balm I rub
around my eyes, into my skin;
some I steeped as perfume’s hymn—
a fragrant pleasure, breathed-in fine,
to make me smell like peace and pine.

I heard your message, saw the sea
in every word you sent to me.
Its meaning swam through troubled mind—
that race is kind, that hearts unbind.
You said, “Don’t take it personally,”
yet still, as one who knows, you see
a person’s touch can bruise or bless.
So rest assured—I’ll not confess
to fear, though I am not insured
to dance with wolves, or be lured
where lions pace and cheetahs race.
I’ll not be foolish, not debase
my worth to cuddle bear or curl
a crib of snakes—not in this world.

Heck, I won’t kiss a golden dart
to turn to royalty. That art
is lost on me. Your slander party?
If insults are your music, hardy—
that’s not my cup of tea. I’m no pig.
I know pigs play, and love the gig
of mud and mire with their own kind.
They tried to lure me—I declined.

But here’s the bridge: not all games suit
the ones who wear a different suit.
Pigs may not know that not the same
are those who flinch at mud-pond fame.
In animal world—and we belong—
respect is law, not right or wrong.
No man made barriers, no need to sever;
we guide ourselves, and know forever
that unity and harmony
are what the wild already see.

The lion keeps its pride of grace,
the crow its murder, time and place.
A flamboyance of flamingos stands,
a tower of giraffes on distant lands.
Parliament of owls, skulk of fox,
mob of kangaroos on rocky rocks,
and smack of jellyfish—they flow
without the lust to strike a blow.
They do not kill for fun, you know.
Even the vulture, dressed in black,
is often more than just attack—
misunderstood, but still a thread
in kindness’ cloth, from foot to head.

I am not self righteous in my pride—
as human, woman, or voice inside.
But from the depth where kindness starts,
I speak this truth with all my hearts:
I see you—you who have my back.
And I see them whose eyes are black.
Thank you for the kindness shown,
and thank them for the contrast grown.
I may not easily detect
which one is Judas—which reflects
a silver coin for my farewell.
But you shine brighter; I can tell.

So here’s the end, the bag I pack—
the air hugs folded, no turning back.
I know the time, I know the place
to unpack life’s enduring grace.
Kindness and smiles? They never run out.
They are the strong, the steady shout—
the earthy, steady, Soddy sound
that lifts me up on solid ground.
And from that ground, I rise and sing:
your air hugs turned to everything.