I have come to love the
Arched backs of promises made in earnest love,
Whether kept or not.
The soft pillows that line the spaces of silence between friends-
Resolutely unforceful and inviting.
The unforgettable moments so beautiful we forgot
To stop for a picture.
I have come to love the moments hidden between photographs
The reality that exists between flashes of the weak walls
We put up for the world’s lens.
I love the beams of light that shine through windows
Daily reminding me of the beauty and hope hidden within each new morning.
I love the soft pillows of flesh that flesh out all my loves;
I find them more comforting than the rock hard abs formed
by closed fists pushing outward against machines-
Time spent away from a warm table conversation
of intellect and emotion poured out unreservedly, unabashedly.
I love gardener’s hands;
Hands that have known the unanswerable mystery of life,
Hands that can till and soften the toughest of grounds,
And yet grasp so tenderly at leaves and fruits and flowers, as if afraid to hurt them;
Only hands so tough could love so gracefully.
I love the arms and eyes of children that reach out, above them, for help so easily;
When did we forget to ask for help with such innocence and ever-present hope?
I love smiles behind book covers
And pages turned with bated breath;
Closed eyes set to the tune of a favorite song;
And furrowed brows trying to help with homework.
I love backs hunched and knees bent to meet the height of a little one
And how even the sorest of eyes brighten at the sight of them.
I love the peeking silver hair among tufts of black and brown-
And talking to their proud owners who’ve earned those stripes.
I love eyes that stare, as if for the first time, into it’s pair;
And hands that meet each others’ without hesitation.
I love heads that nod and tilt into sleep’s trance,
and to think of the fantastic adventures that had kept them from it’s grasp the day before.
I have come to love things I never noticed beauty in before,
Things that unveil the beauty hidden within the untelevised realities of life
For they show me that beauty is never lost and ever present.
It surrounds me as an endless reminder of the rhythms in life that make our hearts pause,
As if forcing time to recognize that even it must
Bow before beauty so sublime, that only those who dare to look upward will see
And know it for what it is.