Believing In A Future Peace

Regret over lost days,
their errant, violent ways,
fades through shouts of praise,
for “she” stays,
basking in the rays
of a warm
and loving light.
I paused along
my morning walk,
three legs
oh so carefully walking,
just a few more steps,
taken in pride, determination,
or irresponsible stubbornness,
with loneliness in my soul,
before taking on wheels.
Feeling old,
in spite of the throne
awaiting me
in the gentle eyes
of a man who might love me,
some day.
A love that tingles like that
first stolen kiss between classes,
richer than the scent of finest coffee,
caught in the sound, mmmm,
that oh-so good sound
of music sung from the soul.
And there will be passion, for me,
of all women, for ME,
in his deep, strong eyes,
and how those eyes envelop me.
Still, I cry.
I refuse the old dark spiral
of self-deceit, self-hate,
ignore the lies I once would tell myself,
every time a timid glance should pass my way,
that the safety of such a good man’s heart,
of his powerful arms,
gently held in a place outside of time
where I might feel them both,
would never choose to embrace me.
I straightened my back;
pop, snap, scream,
atrophy and brittle bones crack,
my determination made me
defiant, triumphant,
and I propped myself
against the will and the strength
of a possibility not yet tasted,
balanced myself on my future love’s
dedication to our sweet together.
A deep breath,
a cold shiver,
the crisp freshness of morning
with the aroma
of late spring blossoms,
newly cut grass,
the sound of a breeze
moaning softly through the evergreens,
all combined into that kind of moment
that lifts you up
into a lasting feeling
that you need to close your eyes for,
that you can’t help but to “mmmmmm,”
when you finally let yourself taste it,
afford for yourself the indulgence of perfect peace,
inner freedom blessed with such redolence.
No longer led astray
by the hand
like a lost child
by the cruel whims
of the dark prince named depression,
or back to the infinite
downward staircase into nothingness.
I shall be blessed by light.
The light of the precious Christ,
author of clemency and grace,
the lover of my very soul,
the indescribable Jesus,
who prepared, just for me,
this guardian of my heart,
the man whom I should love
with such dear
and precious nurture,
unto the end of my days,
and I, formed to serve his love for me
as we serve, together, our God, in
holy unity.
My appearance he flatters
as I watch us in that wisp of a dreamscape,
my ears and neck he adorns,
setting treasure upon his treasure,
his wonderful heart
filled with God,
protects my countenance
with efforts beyond measure.
He holds my hands through storms,
while on his lips,
whispers of comfort,
so that nothing else matters
except the he and I
are inseparably, “we”.
My heart chases him,
yearns for him,
avows to him,
covers him in a safe embrace.
My fragile, soft hands
caress the lines of his face,
sweet kisses shared,
and words as countless as the stars
encourage him.
I wait for his arrival,
for his chest in my arms,
loving his light long before it is seen,
this man who will enraptured me,
and my joy abounds,
a hope and a future,
comfort and peace,
for by God’s will I shall never part
from the side of such true love.

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