Monday, March 5, 2012

For My Beloved Wife, On Her Birthday

Eileen Janaro is a contemplative soul,
a poetic soul,
a receptive soul,
who takes everything into her depths
and holds it in her vast silence.

Every morning she hears Divine love poems,
whispering in the clamor of children
and the struggling man
whose health she needs so much
but whose sickness
she is always ready to bear.

She listens to these secret promises of glory
as she takes the day upon her shoulders
and puts all its parts in place.
She has no time to brood over mistakes,
but puts her trust in mercy,
quietly sets things right as best as she can,
and then keeps going,
taking up the next thing at hand,
embracing it with open heart,
and a practical mind that still
tastes the flavor of the poetry of the day.

At night she is tired.
My lovely woman is tired.
We are both tired
but we are together
and who would have thought
that this could be a modality of love?

When the waking moments draw to an end,
and we stand together before God,
I know that once again
she is saying "yes" to me in my weakness,
and that I am trying once again
to carry her with my broken heart.
The way she loves life is sustenance to me,
and by some miracle I hold her up
as we travel my path of healing.

I see her beauty still.
It is much more vivid after these many years.
I see her beauty inside of time,
a luminous patience
and determination
and hope.
She knows that I cherish
in my soul
this great enduring beauty.

Thus we are held in that mysterious bond,
the Great Mystery of day after day.
And thus we hold each other,
and give each other courage.