You say you cannot cook. I beg to differ.
Anyone can cook if they have the right ingredients
And the right instructions.
Bake the sky into a pie, making sure the crust is flaky.
Top it with the meringue you whip from the clouds.
Infuse a hint of north wind. It adds kick.
Harvest the harvest moon
And prepare it with a side of nostalgia.
Don’t skimp on the memories, even if they’re not good ones;
You won’t be able to tell after it’s done cooking.
Pour the sunset in a cup,
But not before you decide it will be best if chilled before serving.
When you discover that you cannot freeze a sunset, do not fret.
Sometimes the best things in life are room temperature.
Put galaxies into the salt and pepper shakers.
You’ll probably get some stardust on your elbows, but that’s okay;
It just proves that you’ve bumped into some universe.
Besides, elbows are usually handled too roughly,
So to have some brilliance on them for a change
Isn’t a bad thing.
Don’t forget the tablecloth and the cutlery
And the laughter.
Be careful with the china.
It is almost as fragile as you.
Don’t worry about polishing the wineglasses.
No matter how hard anyone tries,
They will never sparkle as much as your eyes do.
Let us go, you and I,
To feast on the heavens.