The Gift
I ask
and I receive.
Over and
over again – You.
Present,
mostly invisible, tender
raw
power, veiled to protect me.
When I
scream and fuss, throwing
my self
into full scale resistance
you do
not roll your eyes – I would know
if you
did. You do not condescend,
give my
head a pat, tell me not to worry.
You
would not disrespect me so.
You are
willing
to wait
for all eternity if I decide
to take
that long. Sometimes I do.
And when
you see
this
time I’ve thrown myself
off the
deep end and forgotten how to swim, you
send an
ally, a quiet angel, one who will
brush up
against me, that nanosecond
of
searing light, burning my sight
back to
solid ground, a river rock
to perch
on so that I open my eyes
and see
the rock is so small, but the
river
not so deep – I can wade
back to
shore where you beam
that
smile at me, whispering “You
are
spectacular”, a kiss in my ear.
And I
receive, oh yes I do.
© 04.01.2011 Gyllian Davies