There was poetry in you this morning

with your coffee breath on my tongue

and your “I don’t want to miss a second of God’s morning laughter as he wakes the dawn”

and your nurse by day but member of the Fellowship of the Ring by night, and fellow traveler with me on the Great Road

There was poetry in the way your hair was lopsidedly braided, like you did it in the dark because turning on a light meant modernity was encroaching on your sacred rhythm

and in the way your eyes said “I love you” even before your vocal cords agreed and your lips confirmed it on my lips

There was poetry in the way your forehead hit my chest, and, for a second, you gave up the pretense of control

and in the way you looked up at me with those dancing green eyes, in them the promise of joy and satisfaction, if only for the next 30 seconds as I held you close and murmured love

There was poetry in the way you fit next to me, ear to my chest, my pounding heart in tandem with the silent sighs passing from your lips

And if the poetic soul is as I’ve written before:

simply words written, standing
alone, containing silent sound, unleashed
when pronounced, reverberating in human hearts.

then you are God’s poem, reverberating in my heart.

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