Love Letters, person to person

I have a fiance who writes me poems every week or so, lavishes me with words of affirmation (my primary love language), and communicates with courage and intentionality. I love love notes. For example, I found the following from a website and this simple note is wrought with power and passion.

 

====
Sarah,
I think back to our wedding day; most of it is blurry and surreal, but I do remember one thing with utter clarity. I remember hearing you say “I do.” I can see your lips pronounce the words, I can hear your voice settling in my ear, and I can definitely remember the surge of emotion that flooded me (which I handled in an extremely manly fashion).
No two words have ever meant so much to me.
Yours,
– Josh
====

 

More stirring romance and thoughtfulness HERE.

 

Advertisements

Abraham’s Stars are Mine

Abraham’s Stars are Mine

– DR, 2011

The crescent moon a hammock to her dreaming,

awake but sleeping heart,

she climbed into the promises of time

– of moons and stars and sun;

and she rested.

 

 

His promises to her would hold:

ropes of hammock around palm trees of

righteous flourishing: steadfast and faithful.

With authenticity and love she told the sky,

                “Good night.”

And the sky knew she meant it.

 

 

“A Bench,” a poem toward where I have not been

“A Bench,” a poem toward where I have not been

by Dawn Diane Richardson

 

 

chiseled somewhere, 

under covering from rain

a mold first

cement stirred

                        in time

and poured

 

“Delightful!” the Designer beamed. 

 

His hands 

sure

necklace of fingers

on neck of promise

                                         but beautiful

forming

from nothing

a voice

winking            at                hope

                                                           a paraglider in the night sky

                                                                                                        promises his compass

                                                                                                                                              stars his paths

the constellations

taking shape

 

she could only sit

on the bench

placid, but believing

wholeheartedly

in this memorial

 

this bench

a memorial

 

her thoughts’ perch

her dreams’ bookshelf

her heart’s pillow

a concrete bench

soft as baby Moses’

river-splashed skin

 

this bench

for fifteen years

a memorial

to the future

       to things He 

          now celebrates

she does not

              yet see

 

only glimpses

      outlines

prophetic words

       visions

 

She sits

on the bench

of her future’s

memorial

 

and smiles.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

“Totally like whatever, you know?”

 

Totally like whatever, you know? 
By Taylor Mali 
www.taylormali.com

In case you hadn’t noticed,
it has somehow become uncool
to sound like you know what you’re talking about?
Or believe strongly in what you’re saying?
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)’s
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences?
Even when those sentences aren’t, like, questions? You know?

Declarative sentences – so-called
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true
as opposed to other things which were, like, not –
have been infected by a totally hip
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know?
Like, don’t think I’m uncool just because I’ve noticed this;
this is just like the word on the street, you know?
It’s like what I’ve heard?
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay?
I’m just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?

What has happened to our conviction?
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked?
Have they been, like, chopped down
with the rest of the rain forest?
Or do we have, like, nothing to say?
Has society become so, like, totally . . .
I mean absolutely . . . You know?
That we’ve just gotten to the point where it’s just, like . . .
whatever!

And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness
is just a clever sort of . . . thing
to disguise the fact that we’ve become
the most aggressively inarticulate generation
to come along since . . .
you know, a long, long time ago!

I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you,
I challenge you: To speak with conviction.
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks
the determination with which you believe it.
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker,
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY.
You have to speak with it, too.