He questioned my certainty.
How could I know, even through the strife, that she was my love?

I paused, looking for the right words,
Not from lack of feeling or reason, but from searching its depth.

How do I describe the blooming garden’s beauty to an unseen eye?
How do I convey the bubbling marrow when greatness is just a few steps away — Goosebumps,
Or the pleasure of the breeze’s cooling kiss on a shadeless summer day?

I think of her and measure my love in devotion,
Not by what she gives, but by what I provide.

Yearning to soothe the toll of her weary feet,
Massaging each bound muscle until it’s free with relief,
To gently hold her when she’s wracked with tears.
Longing to cheer her triumphs,
To be the echo of her laughter and
To reflect the smile of her joy.

How can I say that I love her because of all I am blessed to do with her and for her?

The storms we braved only made us stronger —
Paddling from lighthouse to lighthouse
Through damning, mountainous waves.

Each time we rescued ourselves and reached the light again,
We’ve seen the source.
It was always our love, rooted in service given, not acts received.

It has been an unshakeable foundation
From which we’ve built a family, a home,
And countless beautiful memories.

I know my love the same way the salmon
Is called to swim upstream,
The sun knows to rise and fall,
And the migrating bird feels home
Before ever arriving.

It’s the most natural thing I’ve ever known.

And each day through my window,
I watch her as she passes by,
Because so far,
This love is just my imagination,
Running away
Without me.