Monday, September 9, 2013

This Time of Night

It is now that I miss you the most.
The littles have slept, the house is quiet, 
save the tunes filling the space
and the smoke rising high from candles lighting the darkness. 
Twilight has settled in and my feet finally lift from the hard ground that beat them all day. 
Globe-carrying, battle-negotiating, nose-wiping,
arms wide-open to save their precious worlds. 
And I settle in, wondering where your arms are,
craving the warmth that only your embrace brings. 

It is now that I miss you the most.
There is no damsel in distress here, but how I long to be rescued, carried,
hoisted high on your white horse to rest there for a while. 
I am a sinking ship, weighed down by all that life has dealt
And yet your chest is a safe harbor, catching my head before it slips under,
safe haven of rest, with wings that fold me in. 
I melt into the crevice where arm meets chest,
and your strength overpowers me like a gentle wave lapping up the sandcastle on the shore.
You swallow me whole and I willingly surrender it all. 

It is now that I miss you the most, my friend.
The moon has become my lone night light, and the littles mumble through their dreams.
I stand at their doorway, in awe that they are mine,
little lips moving in incoherent giggles while eyes slumber tight. 
I stumble to a cold bed, all of my own dreams held in like a breath desperate to be let loose,
lungs aching tight. You are not here to share them. 
Victories of the day tucked away for only my complacent celebration,
defeats stashed in the dark corners of the heart.
It is all my load to carry alone. 

It is now that I miss you the most,
this time of night, when all around me has rested,
and yet my heart refuses to give in. 
It is in this time of night when I feel most alone, most lonely.
When all others have gone home with their loved one, hand held, supported, cherished, 
and my world is silent,
save this heart that will not let go of the hope of you. 
It is this time of night that I miss you the most.