sweet words for a weary ear,
a heart that has pushed reluctantly
into new countryside, striated granite
that requires unaccustomed scrambling,
your foot will hold firm even as you
fear you will tumble into an abyss.
i am holding your hand, too, and have
a rope around my waist that I have
tendered for 12 years and is securely
attached to a safe place.
trust me, my love, that you will not
go alone on scree fields that slide
down steep terrain carrying you alone,
away from the one who loves you
the most you have ever been loved.
The Weekend Word: Remembrance
4 hours ago