you’d think by now, the california-ness of the autumn-kissed air would have caused my words to sway and stumble, to stoop and swing across the wide open sky, to sing and land finally, across the white page of new and october thoughts.
by now the full moon of the western night, the silent peaches and salmon-orange of the morning dawn, would have pulled the words from my lips and from my soul and into my pen and onto this, the beginning of something new.
two years ago, he&i were walking hand-in-hand down a long stretch of midnight-lit sand and sea, hearts aflame with the wonderful realization that love was here to stay. one year ago, we put our hands together and bound them to one with rings, and forever he and i become he&i.
and now, we are again in the left coast world, many tears later, and grown together like the gnarled and twisted branches of the california oak outside my window as i write. we have walked europe and america, we have seen barcelona and paris and montpelier and we have traveled fourteen states and laughed and we have cried and we have soared and we have sunk but we have always gotten up again, anchored to the Rock of all the Ages, the Foundation of our Life.
e.e. cummings wrote this best, when from his pen flowed the words —
2 little whos
(he and she)
under are this
wonderful tree
smiling stand
(all realms of where
and when beyond)
now and here
(far from a grown
-up i&you-
ful world of known)
who and who
(2 little ams
and over them this
aflame with dreams
incredible is)
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