an 18th anniversary poem for my wife

look; i’ll keep trying new ways to say i love you

in these poems; i’ll keep searching for words –

stringing them into something beautiful, a necklace to

adorn your heart, or this moment, or the years

marriage takes to develop its true glory.

all that time, wear, and polishing

reinventing the surface of things.

if sometimes it is laboured, it is blessed

effort – how we apply ourselves to the task, true

verdict of the heart. where we house our passion

a breathe into it. where we build a home,

nourish it with actions alongside words, true

vestment, a cloak that clothes us with grace,

love the golden clasp holding us close

in the shadow of the future, the next day.

ever at work the hands, purposed 

the soul, the constant finishing of us.

it is okay to grieve

let me just remind you: it is okay to grieve.

it is okay to not know how one might find the way

to a better solution, or any solution.

it is okay that there are no words;

you’re still looking for them,

they are shadows on the walls of a cave,

fugitive and strange. you know what you want to say

but it is only with your body.

or rather, it is only in your body.

and maybe this is how silence speaks –

with the body, and whispers

about changes that are not chains.

and so embrace this grieving.

there is no point in thinking that

something on the edge of meaning

should not bear so much weight,

should not wield so much power,

should not be beyond words

and the way to name this moment.

you have a decision to make.

it is not an easy decision -

though no one ever promised you any easy decisions –

and the consequences are unknown.

write down the words and measure them.

or carry them in your hands to build a monument.

determine their worth.

take a breath.