You and I,
Dear heart,
Have come a long way from the small soft organ that began to beat in my mother's womb to the fierce and wild wayfinder that lives within me today.
How deeply we have loved,
Saturated ourselves,
Thick and heavy like cream,
We soaked up wells together only to fall into them just as deep when the waters ran dry.
And now,
In this aging body you beat old friend,
Same as you did when I was a child,
Still curious,
Still wild in your ways,
Still leading me down paths I may never find my way back from.
How broken we have been too,
How many times I have woken in ruins expecting your abandonment,
Only to find you still here,
Still holding on,
Still holding me.
We have found others that made us feel most alive,
Whose beat was so in sync with ours,
It lit fires that burned right through us,
And I believed for so long that you existed for the use of another,
For the grief and loss you felt in their absence unstitched you from this body.
But I was gratefully wrong,
Because in their vacancy you still lived on,
You battled and beat for me,
Your home,
And through it all you wanted to show me what you felt,
A deep love to love.
And here we are now,
Memory makes us ache,
And often the future too,
Because there is so much left to love,
And such little time to introduce ourselves to it all.
Better to just love it all then,
As it comes to us,
Every shade and shadow,
Blade and mountain,
Creak and body of both water and human,
Better to love it all and stretch ourselves so wide that we can fit all of it in.
That is the beauty of you,
Our size has nothing to do with your capacity,
Nor does our suffering have anything to do with your ability to always find hope.