My Talks with God

I pray.  I meditate. I talk with God.

I picture you.

I see your face in my own eyes when I look in the mirror.

The light reflects emotions, words, caches of purpose

Permeating stubborn fear into a pulsing love

There is no shelf in my life for me to store my yearning for us.

I have given this yearning for God to store in His warehouse

Our family, His blessings, our story must wait

Forever, years there are our choices and His plan

I have given such to God what I was too afraid to hold

If that yearning has any remaining place in His world

He shall return that which you once held to be with me to you

In a tender place of mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual affinity

For us to grow fresh roots in who we can be at that time, but could not before

If there is no home because we are destined for other paths

I pray.  I meditate.  I talk with God.

To not picture you and flow us each to where He intends

These lines, these lives, these resumes of expectations

Of how two humans are to synchronize into a whole

No one has ever made more sense or felt like God’s hand in my life more than you.

I date. I yoga. I explore.

I found a liberal Harvard graduate working for social change.

I found a psychologist dancer.  I found a family starter kit.

On paper I thought of the reciprocal Christian man playing Usher beats

Smoother and simple in comparison to the weights in my luggage

These checklists of what would seem like would fit for each

Maybe you prefer the DJ to the writer, the surfer to the spelunker

Maybe we have barely met on the surface, but always in the deep

Of all these shifting sands, wolf-blown houses, and scatter-plot jobs

I wished to entwine a soul in every cavern and play in the fire of sex

The coolness of the Pacific Ocean and the jazz belly of New Orleans

Wanting mutual choice bound in covenant

Pop-princess reading the Bible dancing

Green eyes fall into eternity 

God’s complement seen in the mirror

The paper-scratcher safety of a clone can fly away

Best-friends in bed bearing hearts

Nothing else matters

The job, the house, the security of illusion

There is love, experiencing the deepness in conversations reverberating in soul

These emotional treasures I have given to God

I try not to picture you in a woman’s eyes 

It has been this way since the day we met

Mistakes, regrets, no surrender, time in counted breaths 

Sadness in the subtly of needless walls

Tear them down and born to run together

Or maybe never

It is in God’s hands