Bringing her a blanket, a wet cloth, a glass of water.
Wrapping the blanket around her trembling body, placing the cloth so gently on her forehead, bringing the glass of water to her blood-red lips.
He is here.
A constant in the ebb and flow of life. A heart that beats her story, their story. A heart that never falters.
He is present, not only for the moment, but for the moments. All of them. The seemingly menial moments that make up a full life.
This love is fierce.
Escaping to a haze of smoke and live music and asking the stars her questions.
So young. So old. So ready to kiss the world, kiss its neck, and watch it melt.
She is here.
A being of extraordinary beauty, a goddess in disguise.
She is a seeker of truth and of self and of others. She needs to be heard, needs to share her secrets, her dreams, her mind-made delusions. She finds comfort in a squeeze of the hand, a lingering look, a shared glass of wine.
This love is eager.
Sitting under the eclipsing moon, mouthing a promise to each other.
Touching the Earth, breathing the sky, caressing the moment and its infinite power.
They are here.
Enveloped between the folds of passion and fear and tenderness. A living poem written on the palms of their hands, in the lifelines that make them both flawed and flawless.
This love is gentle.
Beautiful strangers grasping for the meanings behind the stories, vowing to wake up in the morning and make another choice, finding the courage forgive and forge ahead.
All of us, lucky mortals inhabiting this precious planet, understanding nothing and trusting the miraculous. We carry faith in our bleeding hearts and hope in our pockets.
We are here.
Floating in the cosmos on a blue water marble as delicate as a drop of rain, a testimony to the magic of this world. We protect and preserve and self sacrifice.
We enjoy snowflakes on our tongue and skin against skin. We climb mountain after mountain because the view from the top is worth every step. We say, “I love,” “I’m here,” “I care” and we really mean it.
We sit around the Christmas tree, filled with awe and gratitude, not for the gifts so perfectly wrapped, but for the people who know us, cherish us, and share the journey with us.
We cry until we’re blind and yet we still manage to find our way home. We do the best we can. We do what we can. We are beams of light.
This love is all-encompassing.
This love. That love. Your love. Our love.
Is for now.
This week's affirmation: Love is all there is.