it was the words we never spoke out loud
even in empty spaces
for fear the walls would hear
but in the space between us, they were allowed
those ugly things you are never supposed to think or feel,
the fears you don’t even want to admit to yourself
and of course the sacred, precious dreams you don’t ever tell a soul
lest it’s sacredness be stripped from mere utterance
but you & I, we allowed them
it was the baby steps we took against the current of our fears
the celebrations when either rode a wave
clangs and cymbals
the reaching out when terror and pain was
at either door… sliding in from underneath the love
late night calls, emails in the middle of the night
the morning calls when the house was quiet
lunches out the door, me making my way to work
have a beautiful day my love, I love you
morning after morning
how you called every single time I needed a driving partner
literally accompanying me on my journeys
warm orzo at breakfast
homemade chai on chilly days
the art of tea
the art of life
the art of love
the 401 drives
arms wide open with hugs
warm pot of soup on the stove
coconut milk ordeals
cooking meal after meal together
in between soul shares and dishes
all of it, every moment till the end was a labor of love without any labor
the wisdom you brought into my life
I could live another lifetime and not have amassed as much
you could tell me a million times I was your blessing
but you were mine
you even gave me a brother, and boys to love
dinnertime conversations as a family
endless blessings, endless memories
tearful train station goodbyes have nothing on this one
nothing
all I could do was hold you
and say it out loud in hopes that your soul could hear
only my love and not my regrets
and so maybe you won’t need to forgive me
maybe me holding you will make up for a fraction of my errs
and maybe I will continue be a blessing
and our souls will remain intertwined
and if I am truly blessed
in my next life we will play in sandboxes
on swings
in open grassy fields near giant willow trees
again as sisters
in spirit, soul and blood
in the meantime
may the cracks in your heaven be big enough for me reach through and hold your hand
and long enough for our voices to echo back and forth
and deep enough to match the love held deep in my heart and yours
that we may continue to be a testimony of the art of friendship
the art of life
the art of love