Here I am, so duly inspired by the embrace of love. Today the mountains looked a bit brighter as they embraced new snows while reaching high to touch the sky. I am but a shadow of these things but they, too, are but a shadow of me. We dance in this way together.
As always, my thoughts turn to you. I remember the times my heart would rise as you reacted to me long before you could use your words. I remember the times when there was just something in the way thoughts of you would change my moment, inspire me to put my heart into words and create a swirl of possibility in my dreams. I remember all the hesitation I once had, all of the fear present in my taking the long leap forward. It took me some time and a lot of introspection, but once that decision was made I have never been more grateful for the any step I’ve ever taken.
Now, I see the difference in sharing a life with one you love. We often think about the grandiose events, those wonderful memories created in short moments of grandeur. I am, however, more grateful for the possibility of the smaller things. I look forward to cooking for you when you are tired. Or taking out the trash. Or scraping your car windows of ice in the winter. I look forward to gently rubbing your soreness away, of making sure you are awake in time. I look forward to our laundry day, in folding clothes together as we watch our team play. I look forward to our waking up in the middle of the night, having that brief conversation before falling back to sleep…that kiss, that caress, that snuggle. I look forward to waking up in the faint morning light and seeing your body there, of knowing you are safe and that I am there to protect you. I look forward to gentle walks along the water’s edge wherever that water may be found. I look forward to your hand in mine as we gaze at the mountains, at the ocean, or just look “out there” reflecting our good fortune. I look forward to your walking in the door, of that kiss hello, that kiss goodbye, that kiss eternal.
I look forward to sharing holiday memories and writing our stories. I look forward to sitting on a bench, any bench, and creating wondrous renditions of magic on a page we share. I look forward to leaving you notes under your pillow if for nothing more than knowing that smile they give you. I look forward to reaching for you in my sleep, and feeling you hand grab mine in yours.
It’s not the grandiose things I look forward to the most. It’s those little ones I can’t wait to share with you. The big ones will come, but they will serve as pillars for a church we’ve built with little stones. There will be smiles and there will be tears, but there will always be the knowledge that when one’s knees grow weak the other is there, waiting to offer a hand.
And you know what? It’s about fucking time.
Two souls made strong in their aloneness now bring that strength into their togetherness. Two loving hearts made weary by a long journey now rise together in a renewal. Two poets who write beautiful words separately now scribe a new truth together. It seems to all make such perfect sense there, in those little things.