Music speaks into the air.
We sway soft, holding one another close, watching years roll away.
Laughter erupts and we collapse onto the sofa.
I sit on his knee and we kiss.
I see a gleam in the eyes of this man I’ve known and loved since forever.
Youth blooms eternal in a heart that loves. Age is no barrier.
We warm ourselves by its fire, persuade its embers into life again, coax the coals.
Others pay attention, attracted like moth to flame, desiring the heat of it.
Although our human love is but a poor, pale shadow of God’s love, it glows with hint and suggestion of His radiance.
Hearts hungry for love sense a longing echoing in their own souls.
And as my beloved and I come closer toward a significant wedding anniversary, we do so with humble gratitude, awe and wonder.
Because this love we’ve been given, shared soul deep, fought hard to retain over years of fears and tears, has survived against the odds and never lost its fire and fervour.
So I make no apology for posting about love this month as I reflect on the gift we’ve been given and the years shared.
Here’s the first small offering… a potential poem for my forthcoming anthology?.. You can decide.
We’re watching Muse on the TV
our voices joining in
with the melody
in our own idiosyncratic
cracked and rusty way
And it doesn’t matter that
I’m applying your Parkinson patch
as we dance clumsily as one
or that I sway uneasily
on these weak, arthritic knees
What matters is the unleashed
joy as giggles erupt free
and we clutch one another
in imperfect harmony
with a youthful abandon
and familiar, ancient ease