My fingers search for any sensation, 
while my hands are tied up in a clock. 
The little ones are waiting. 
We must get back.

Can I savor you in the meantime?
I love nothing more than you.
Counting my lucky stars
you’re the one with me among the trees.

I don’t see any other life.
First two, then three,
then four, then five.
They are the stars in our sky.

For the love I feel for them
I can feel because of you.
But my Mari, my love,
I’ll always long for just you.

My fingers search for any sensation,

while my hands are tied up in a clock.

The little ones are waiting.

We must get back.

Can I savor you in the meantime?

I love nothing more than you.

Counting my lucky stars

you’re the one with me among the trees.

I don’t see any other life.

First two, then three,

then four, then five.

They are the stars in our sky.

For the love I feel for them

I can feel because of you.

But my Mari, my love,

I’ll always long for just you.

I didn’t see you there,

weaved behind

the thorny branches.

Their summer leaves,

green raisins 

awaiting autumn alteration.

Wonderstruck, 

I gaze in admiration 

at the brilliance 

in the sky,

enchanting

since the age of 5.

A potted plant.

Feet buried in the soil,

a fusion of life’s

chance-medley.

Preach it

to the choir.

And as I seek the sun,

I’m still grounded by the moon.

An unremitting prescription

to bring me back

home

to you. 

Did I fear the water or my ability to swim?

Was I afraid of the heights or scared to sense safety up high?

Is my hesitation to branch out based on a fear of failure?

Or is this lack of faith a lack of trust in myself?

What if the pursuit of peace
isn’t a chase at all?
What if peace already lives
within our self-contained existence,
cloaked in its insistence
it never be found?

And as it hides we move our eyes
to look anywhere but here.
But here peace thrives
in the minutiae of life’s few stops,
in the breaths between our thoughts.

Peace is not some promise
or a prize to be won.
It’s not a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Instead, you’ll find peace in the moments you stop moving.
Only when you end the chase
may peace reveal its place.

I think about the last words of the vows
you read a year ago today.
“And to always hold your hand when facing any challenges
and know that they will never carry us apart.”

You said those words unknowing
of what lied just months ahead,
but it didn’t matter.

In a year of challenges,
you kept your promise,
and you didn’t just hold my hand.

You held up my head,
my mind, my heart,
my spirit, my soul.

You held me up,
you held us up,
through challenge after challenge.

But please don’t mistake my appreciation of you for surprise.
I only know you to keep your promises.
Your loyal love has always been the calm water
on which we float upon.

And nearly 9 years later,
and one year later,
I never worry we’ll drift.
Because even after the daily dance of chaotic life,
I still can’t get enough of you.

I still miss you when we’re inches apart.
I still love learning what’s inside your heart.
I still crave you and the way you show your love.
You’re still the only one I see in the room.

I knew when we got married nothing would change.
A testament to us.
I knew you’d still love me the same.

And I loved you then like I love you now,
hopelessly, incessantly, endlessly.
Perhaps it’s fitting we never had an actual honeymoon.
You make our life feel like one.

Your love surrounds me.
Even the parts that go in circles.
The holes where pieces are missing.
The cracked parts that can sting you.

You never judge why things are broken,
you only try to heal.
Any beauty you find in my flickering light
is a small reflection of the beauty I find in you.

Your love envelops me,
like a never ending hug.

It holds me to remind me I’m seen.
It holds me in the only way I need.
A love we hold dear,
in our hands and in their eyes.

This is one of those times
no words can match my mind
when I think of how grateful I am of you.

To know you,
to be around you,
to feel you,
to love you.

For all the love I’ll ever need
you gave to me.
With few words and a look,
we’re eight years into a lifetime.
A long hallway promise that’s always been kept.

A long road we continue to pave,
drawing the map as we go.
Through cities new and familiar.
To realize I’m always home
as long as you’re there.

And even “we” means something new.
To love how it was
and to love knowing it’ll never be the same.
For we saw once they came
just how love can grow.

It multiplies with the smiles and the cries.
The subtle moments.
How you can be an entire world for someone
who’s your entire universe.
Not unlike how you’re mine,
then and now and tomorrow.

How lucky I am to stay in your orbit.
For all the love I’ll ever need
you give to me.
With few words and a look.
Eight years into a lifetime.
A long hallway promise that’s always been kept.

As the roar of the dishwasher fills the background,
I lie surrounded by boxes, playthings, clutter.
And for the first time all day,
I don’t let it get to me.
I am about to lay next to you, my love,
with a couple little loves in between.

How lucky are we?

Tied together by our flower-like connection.
The seed was our creation, one we water everyday.

Every day, I miss you.
The late nights.
A floor to move our feet.
A drink to share too fast.
The dreams we’d share in the past.

Now we struggle to last.
To lay still is to steal a moment,
knowing it may not come again soon enough.
And too often we don’t steal enough for us.

But I love you.

And as I peek at a clock that is not my friend,
I write to you, for you
to know that I’m always right here.
Heart full in knowing you’re always right there.