Out here, I feel a shift;
Familiar, but in the way of an old friend
I haven’t seen in a while.
Solo drives through deserted roads
Have a unique feel:
Therapeutic, calming, healing,
Restorative.
But this feels different
Because the only thing I’ve broken
Is the physical proximity to you
And
Our little one.
There was a time when this
Made sense to me:
A life spent living
Out of a suitcase
And staring out from
Behind a steering wheel.
When once I thought ‘itinerant’ and ‘ascetic’
Were synonymous with ‘prophetic.’
A life spent away.
But hearts, I’ve learned, are healed
In other ways. And ‘missionary’ doesn’t
Have to mean a lonely death
On the doorstep of
A far-off place.
I am restored by the familiar shape
Of your body next to mine.
Even as it has changed along our
Nine month wait for the arrival of
Our newest member.
I am healed by the soft to LOUD, s l owtofast
Chime of your laugh that
Comes in response to your own
Joke.
I am found in the warm
Recognition, the softening of your iris,
As I walk through the door.
30 hours away was once a small ask.
It is now on the edge of too much.
Cliffs of Moher. 2015. Credit: AJ Joven