Eggs and toast and something sweet It’s mostly what there is to eat At this nest of harmony All the trauma parts he’ll treat While Xoch holds a hand or rubs their feet. This poem’s as cheesy as the swiss Melted over the scrumptious bliss That nourishes guests who come and see The loving field so many miss Attunement like a parent’s kiss. Now it’s time To end this rhyme But first, another toast: To mystery, magic, and mischief Constants in this home sublime.