Can you spend your life with a man for the way he holds your hand?
For his mysteries?
For his silence?
Can you base that decision on faith?
We have so little.
Words and colors,
Sky and earth,
Light and dark.
Little in common to the outward eye.
But who would I be without his constant
patient strength and abiding love
without the net he crafted
of so many fibers
a net large enough to catch
my shards and broken places
where I came to understand
that he would always be there
in the rain and storms
to meet the sun with me.
