One Thing.
His arms, which reach to hold me,
At the end of a day, of a storm,
Guarding me in space and time,
Outside the world, inside our sphere,
A shelter formed from two strong arms,
Two strong hands, which kindle hope.
Peace and tenderness fill my heart,
My brain breathing, a relief from reality,
Boxing worry in steel bands, ordering it,
Diffusing the pain, ignorance, and hatred
Which strikes between the hours of isolation,
Solitude, aloneness, and despondency.
Heart melted into ease, resting weary head
Upon shoulders precisely positioned upon
Muscles of love, offering bright solace.
I am cocooned in ataraxis, blooming in
Our conservatory of love, of pansies,
Violas, Pinks of my John, Johnny Jump-ups.
His arms, the foundation, the center,
And my breath catches, my heart glows.
Here I am safe. Here I am understood.
Ann WJ White 