1pck. pre- cooked lasagna noodles
2 jars spaghetti sauce w/ onion&garlic;
17 oz. Ricotta cheese
1 t. sweet basil
1 t. oregano
1 egg
1 lb.ground, browned Italian sausage
3 cups mozzarella
1 cup grated parmesian

Preheat oven(with some innocent play)
Mix:
Ricotta(to add some excitement)
Basil and oregano(to spice it up)
Mix in beaten egg(to add stability)

Use ungreased 8x10 pan(to hold the comfort of it all)

Layer:
1 cup sauce(to swap a sweetened kiss)
Even out1/4 sausage(to add some spontaneity)
Place pasta in row(to layer with anticipation)
Spread ricotta(mixed with the above)
Sprinkle 1/4 mozzarella( to stretch the imagination)
Repeat steps 1-5(until pan is full of emotion)
Parmesian on top( to please)

Bake 1 hour at 350•( to heat up the love)
Cool 45 minutes( to lay in each others arms)

And all I can think about is you..

Every day, the cracks in the sidewalk
draw my gaze, because, not because
I'm afraid of stepping on them
but because I'm afraid of tripping
The cracks themselves, in terms
of wishes don't bother me
I won't ever break my Mummas back
It's how they seem to raise above
the norm of a flat surface to navigate
Trying to make this idiotic body
fall, just sprawl lifelessly, is the crack
But I am born of more studiousness
I don't want to look up from pavement
into laughing faces, amidst concern
gasping with feigned indifference
I want to fill each crack with perfection
from my heel, from my fingertips, clawing
away the empty earth that filters between
and settles, hidden beneath crust and dirt
I want to open the crack to study it's girth
to reveal what it hides, unseen
If there are worlds yet undiscovered
they are hiding in the cracks of the
Sidewalk of Life
Stumbled upon by one who wants to dig
and get their hands *****, on their knees
because they fell, laughing on the way down

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

God are you among
streams that filter through
drapes of rituals
adorning  halls
of sacred buildings?

God are you lingering
in faded ink
on pages transcribed
by scribes who claim to transmit
your wisdom?

God are you hidden
amid the din
designed to cover
the answers sought?

God are you present?