Status: <3
Of Love and Light
Sunday Mornings
When it is my eyes that blink. And when it is a thought of you that brightens the dark halls of my mind, like a lamp in the midnight hour of my last day, like a smile after the pain of a wound has passed; I'm redirected by habit's warm hands back to a memory of
You.
Standing in a glorious silence that words don't ever need to fill. Words, anyway, could never make intelligible the way I feel with you. For you. We don't need words, then, however much we both may
Love
them. If they can't fully describe the perfection of a Sunday morning; golden and peaceful, sacred - then they can never whisper, say, cry of who and what you are. Never. Because that's is what a memory of you I'm constantly reminded of reminds me of.
I
Can see the small evidence of a happiness on your lips that I myself find at the mere mention of your name; a name, which I might add, was told to me by an angel of the same several letters. When I was five. And, gently, as is ever their nature, he carved it into my heart and, deeper, into my soul, so that I may never forget it. So that I may keep proof and subsequent faith that there is a God, through my immortalized love for you.
...and so my Sunday's seem so peacefully made for thoughts of you by me.
You.
Standing in a glorious silence that words don't ever need to fill. Words, anyway, could never make intelligible the way I feel with you. For you. We don't need words, then, however much we both may
Love
them. If they can't fully describe the perfection of a Sunday morning; golden and peaceful, sacred - then they can never whisper, say, cry of who and what you are. Never. Because that's is what a memory of you I'm constantly reminded of reminds me of.
I
Can see the small evidence of a happiness on your lips that I myself find at the mere mention of your name; a name, which I might add, was told to me by an angel of the same several letters. When I was five. And, gently, as is ever their nature, he carved it into my heart and, deeper, into my soul, so that I may never forget it. So that I may keep proof and subsequent faith that there is a God, through my immortalized love for you.
...and so my Sunday's seem so peacefully made for thoughts of you by me.