This is all too ephemeral to ignore:
all the minuscule gestures of love,
the infinite and subtle facial expressions I have come
to study and know so well: this one when you are content,
this one when amused, this one devilish, perhaps one
of consternation when watching the news
and the world all seems too much.
And here is the one I like best—
the velvet look of pure love,
the one where I glance over to catch your soft stare,
an expression almost of wonderment on your face
as if we have met and fallen in love all over again.
This tenderness is too dear to ever be expunged by time.
Sometimes the smallest actions
are the ones that thrill me most:
a book I had briefly mentioned wanting is suddenly mine,
or you were just thinking of me and you
brought me home the most wonderful, beautiful
blueberry muffin because you remembered
just how much I love blueberries.
My look of delight at each surprise
is enough to make you happy every time,
and small gifts of affection never fail to touch me,
those things that say to me, I know you so well.
This is the stuff of really good love.
There is sacrifice. But for everything you give,
you receive it back a millionfold.
You just have to love each other enough
to pay attention, to listen, to watch,
to know what it is to be part of an exquisite stillness
where it feels so good just to sit quietly together.
You have to be willing to say, Now and forever,
I give myself to you completely and
I know you will do the same. You are the one
I would forsake all others to be with.
I trust in this love.
Some may say this is difficult, but not I.
I say let the tide of love in and I will float on it.
Give me yourself and I will hold you with gentle care.
Because this love we envelope between us
is the most precious thing of all.

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