The Way Love Shows Up

My mother sneaks shyly into my room
and take a seat beside me in silence,
when I don’t stop and breathe in the living room
on the way from work to my cave.

Every time I wake up, whether day or night,
my sister calls me by my name to let me know
that she is glad I am there, by her side,
even if her calls never receives an answer.

Even when he suffers alone, under the unbearable weight
of his own consciousness, my dad never asks me
for anything apart from my own wishes to become true; 
not even a few minutes of my day or me to make him proud as a son.

As I  searched for parts of me that I could love unconditionally, 
my family froze their wishes in time and waited outside my door
already ready to give all the love that I could ever need in my life
because that’s the way love shows up:
gently, and shyly, till we are ready to answer its call.

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