You say that you are waiting.

I will wait with you.

We can walk alone

but I will still feel your hand in mine,

remember the steps that we took to here,

fingers interlaced like the weaving of our paths

and I will try not to run, pummelling towards what is not yet real.

 

Our love is tenacious.

Loud.

Louder than either of these fearful hearts cared to hear

And that volume pounds in mine still.

Matches my footprints

as I take my road.I am waiting too.

 

Waiting to know that

our love was meant for something,

that it wasn’t just a seed

tossed carelessly into dry earth,

but tucked lovingly into fertile soil,

planted with prayer.

That we are still growing,

flourishing.

That the work of now

is for the work of a forever

that although we cannot know

we can use our hope to light these paths we travel alone.

 

I wait with you

in awe of the times

we have walked apart before,

and walked apart together,

and welcome each and every road less travelled.

We have never followed a map before

why would we start now.

 

So, love of mine,

take your path

and I will take mine.

Alive

in love

and waiting for what is waiting for us.

 

Author: Tiffany Anderson

Editor: Sara Kärpänen

Photo: Paul Dufour / Unsplash