Begging on the Streets

I’ve prayed for lifetimes
at the gates where travelers come through,
for you.

We’ve walked from opposite ends of time
meeting in the middle,
I’ve always known you.

Begging on the streets,
I’ve met all types. Nobility and
the scum they scrape
from their boots,
you walk through all of it unphased.
Unscathed. Unbroken and unknown.

And, too often,
Alone.

And yet, I know you. I see you, the deeper you hidden to those without eyes to see,
hidden to those who are dazzled and dazed,
from starting too long
into the sun.

There are no words I can say to you;
no writing on paper can express,
the safety I feel in your arms.
The tenderness in the softness of your
breath, the love I see reflected
in your smile.

We’ve walked a winding road.
No one knows where it leads, there are
no maps, where you and I are traveling.
Whatever may come, I will turn
to you, be seen
by you, and be grateful for every day that I’m blessed to wake
next to you.