Coming home to you

Coming home to you:

Has it been a thousand years or just forty?

An afterthought really:
In all our moments together,
the past is merely a playful wink and a humbling blink
in this restful timelessness we share.

Oh and that memory of before:
All I’ve longed for was to hold you,
tell you that you’re wonderful
that everything will be ok,
to pray for your happiness and peace –
no matter how long I was blessed to share in it with you –
and every minute I do,
I give thanks for you,
give thanks that I get to come home to you.

Coming home to you:

‘Everything that never was’, you whispered,
so perfectly expressed as you so often do,
I feel I’m living a poem:
every smile, laugh, and quiet knowing,
every touch we share –
words are too gleefully late to express,
trying to catch up with us like kids chasing fireflies,
yet your lips find the way and I listen in reverence,
I give thanks for you,
give thanks for this love,
oh how I’ve come home with you.

Coming home to you:

Seeing you, barefoot singing in the kitchen
I have no questions,
and no need for answers,
I only want to be influenced by you,
the way spring blossoms seek sun and even the rain,
I want to know you and love you in every way,
I want a front row seat to your unfolding,
and to give thanks for you,
give thanks for this us we are,
and this passionate peace
of coming home to you.

Coming home to you:

I’ll always be singing like a bird
my love for you
and how beautiful you are
through and through

I admire you
I respect you
I adore you
through and through

I will be your champion
Not because you need one,
but because I will always be a lover of your happiness
and I give thanks for you,
through and through,
oh how I love being here at home with you.

I love you
through and through