I’ll be honest,
I miss staring into your eyes, my hand on your cheek, giggling because each word from your mouth was new and lovely.
I miss how every touch was a lightning storm with colors I'd never seen before.
Staying up until 2am because we just couldn’t help it
Asking questions we didn’t know the answers to
Talking long walks and finding “our spot”

Now there are less butterflies,
but that’s only because we’ve caught them.

They’ve settled down a bit and only take off when the weather’s right, but we’ve gained some things in their stead:
Trust that we can say and do anything and it will be met with understanding not judgement
Knowledge of the other's needs and wants and quirks
The desire to work together toward something bigger than ourselves
Security that we have chosen each other over and over again

And I’ll be honest again,
I don’t feel in love with you anymore.
Because being in love to me used to mean  I couldn't hold back from kissing you and that the "I love you's" had to be grander and deeper each time.
But now I do hold back for the sake of our souls
and now I say “I love you”, but you already know.
The roller coaster has stopped and we’re going back home.

I am in love with you, but I’m adjusting to a new definition.
A love that isn’t butterflies crashing around in my belly until three in the morning.
It’s a love that is going to bed at 11 so we can go to church, a love that is cleaning the kitchen together, keeping up with each other’s families, listening and reminding each other of truth when it’s been a hard day, and knowing that our arguments won’t last.
I know the feelings are fleeting but the fact is we are always there for each other and we never get tired of being in each other's presence and that is all I need.

Seeing you
is like opening an old door
to sunshine and warm breeze,
after hunkering indoors all winter.

Touching you
is like diving into the ocean for the first time,
the bubbles fizzling and the current playing with your toes.

Hearing your voice
is like Home got up and started talking,
and its favorite song is laughter.

Smelling you
is the familiar scent I’ve always known
but could never figure out from where,
until I met you.

I was driving home last eve
She said,"Ma! Look! Tee hee! They
love
each other!"
To the left of the single lane,
in the tall golden hay,
sat a couple
She sat with her back to him,
between his legs
He, held her in his arms
as the sun sliced the sky
I stopped,
right on the road
Honey suckle blowing in the late breeze
I watched them,
We watched them
for just a bit
They loved each other

And all I wanted
was to be the honeysuckle

:::::::::::.................:::::::::::

Here, in this sacred space...
   :::::::::.............:::::::::
...where curtains and breeze
.....dance and tease,

...no words are uttered, i hear nothing
.........except my breathing
eyes roam, legs are crossed, as if to rule,
determined....as a stubborn mule

here in this sacred space, i have a regular
dialogue with my Creator....my Saviour,
     ::::::::::::::::..........................::::::::::::::::::
thro­ugh His mysterious ways, He speaks to me
i am drawn to a quietude that flows from Him.
...........this noiseless space talks to me...
it's not the words...something else takes over
.....and enfolds me........especially,  when
fragmented moments start to stir my heart,
...i lose them all....when i hold my breath
when my mouth has ceased, my words on  a halt,
...........i am suspended.....far from the noise
.....................of the outside world...
:::::::::::::::
here in this sacred space, i am with my loved one,
         ::::::::::::::::..........................:::::::::::::::::::
tho­ugh distant............the world is...ours,
we're in deep conversation that could last a day
we are ourselves, naked..wearing no false pretenses
...we are timeless...we are one...the two of us...
::::::::::::
here, in this sacred space...rich with
......an imperturbable stillness
..........my mind is overwhelmed
...by a silence.....so eloquent.......
   ::::::::::::...................::::::::::::


Sally


Copyright June 25, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan