I am your wife, unwavering
mate
mirror
witness
and welcome home.
This door is not the destination;
it is the journey
that begins anew
with each re-entry
from rock-strewn paths
and ecstatic escapades
that bring us mindfully
into the Gift of Presence.
You are the air I breathe
in the unrelenting
Realm of Reason
where metaphor melds
with matter
for I can be neither
better half nor weaker half
or, for that matter,
other half
when the fullness of union
suffers no halves.
I stand before you whole
with all my battered luggage
unpacked
aired
stored
and labeled “Ours.”
2014 Mary Boren
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