Come to me beloved Sophia and rest –

Put your head on my shoulder and your hand on my heart as I hold your hand with my hand and wrap my right arm around you so tightly; holding you so closely that your skin and my skin are wed into a single thing. You rest your foot on my leg and your hair is a mist upon my face.

The love between us is a Spring storm, powerful and bright; the gentle touch between us the heat of a white star; the whispers we share are the vastness of the entire universe – it is that way every night my precious love, never changing but to deepen.

Tonight, when I whispered to you that I loved you, it reached a part of you that was more profound than we had ever known. You did not speak a word, you did not move a single muscle – but I felt your teardrops falling upon my chest; in their warmth I felt your own truth and sincerity. In the darkness, our hands and our hearts clasp in unity to form a place of worship.

We will not dry them, that would be profane. Instead they will soak into my skin and find their way to my soul where they will abide forever, just as our love will abide in the stars for mankind to always remember. There are no questions to answer, no words need to be said; it is what it is my beloved.


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My Sophia, small and delightful –

Morning’s sun is rising over the oaks and pines as I sit and watch the day begin at the edge of our garden. Bright red birds flutter and sing at the joy of the return of light and life to the day. It’s color is almost the same as the brilliant orange canna you planted next to our window; you said you did that so that even on cloudy days we will rise to the color of the sun. Artistic and meaningful are the small grace notes you add to the life we live.

Inside, you are asleep, you small and perfect body curled in slumber as you clutch my pillow in my early morning absence. You are so small and the universe is so large; how have I managed to completely fill it with you my love? To me, the known universe resides in the gold within your eyes, within the softness of your hand, the tenderness in your voice when you tell me how much you love me. There is nothing outside those things, and if those things such cease to be, the universe would collapse in on itself.

For my breakfast I am having tomatoes from our garden, picked by your hands last evening and rough bread of corn which I baked for you last night. As I watch the beginning of the day I realize that from your eyes, from your heart, comes the perfection that is every star at night, in every vein of every leaf, every sound of laughter from every child ever born.

Then I will be off to my business for the day, returning tonight. During each moment of the day I will wonder how the universe is managing to stay intact while I am away from your presence, how is it that life continues without being able to look into your eyes, realizing how mundane are all things that occur in this world that do not involve loving you.

So small, how have you managed to fill the entire universe my beloved Sophia?


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