Most beloved

We are gathered here today

To revel in the most told

Word truth to uphold in

Innocence and splendor

As if they made the words so

Arrogant to contain the meaning.

And not simply be the soft beds that

They rest on a long moment to be understood.

we are not who we are when we are sleeping

We can just be found there in between

Expressions and tangents 

Apocryphal in Truth

And restless directions

Itemized placed and stored

To be adored

Most beloved

We have gathered

Our fruits and labors

heads in bed chambers

Our salt

Our shakers 

home where we make it.

The rest is rest

To wit 

To rest

Most beloved 

and expressed

Maybe it was fate. 

Maybe it was G-d. 

Maybe it was worship. 

Maybe it was all the things I didn't want to believe in growing up

 because I thought they weren't for me.

  I thought

  they were there for people who got things

  who deserved things and I wasn't one of those people.

 I thought maybe just maybe it was me in the world

  and then I met you; 

  and all the love songs. 

  All the movies, 

  all the poetry, 

  all the wars. 

  it all clicked.

   They were for people like you and me 

   and people who wished 

   they were like you and me

    because it seemed like the greatest aspiration of all

     to wake up every morning. 

     with you 

     to go to sleep every night. 

     Happy

      in a way the person I used to be just couldn't understand and doesn't think I'd deserve. 

      yet, 

      here we are 

      everyday 

      every night 

      in our little house.

       Our little worship 

       with our little thankfulness

        to whatever brought us here today 

        to this 

        thing its beautiful. Simple completely engrossing

         thing that I never want to be without.

          I love you. 

          I've always loved you

           will always love you. 

           You're the best thing.

            The only thing and

             everything.

              I love you

I have sometimes when dreaming- dreamt

of what it meant for feeling kept

that which spoke from out the page

that summer wept and winter raged

why when sat upon a chair

in reading books where meaning fare

the moment grasp'd the time unlaid

the solemn whisper made- unmade

I often think now of the same

why had this dream unmade be made

you ask yourself

I do not wonder

only you, my love,- my thoughts of plunder

the small embrace

the evening wear

the twin tined touch upon our chair

my soul you ask

my heart's prescription

poets made the words

you defy description.