a poem of you


where my feet slip out of shoes and into warm, fuzzy socks.
i find myself circling, like a dog pressing down the head-high grass.
it is here, each night, that i can't help but consider you.
i think about your brilliance... how your essence carries miles before you walk in the room.
i think about your wisdom... all the ideas, insights and stories you share that awaken me.
and i think about how little you know of your own magnificence.

it's okay. i struggle with mine everyday.

with cats nestled up on either side of me and a sweet old dog, who sometimes forgets she is old, at my feet... i think of you.
I think of your life story, filling in the places I know nothing about to give the story of you context.
I see your vulnerability and your power.
I consider how my life would be different were we to never have met.

sometimes I think so much about you, i forget about myself.

then i recall the purpose of our connection and draw in the light with deep breaths.
seeing myself as whole or in pieces... however i am in any given moment.
and loving myself just the same.

i find myself moved, deeply.
knowing you has reminded me of just how important it is for me to know myself.
for me to love me.
after all... if i don't, i can't expect anyone else will.

are magnificent beyond what you believe about yourself.
and I know, doing the work of my life and discovering my own brilliance...
gives you permission to do the same.

don't need me to tell you just how special you are.

and know this is enough.