You Hold My Sky

You Hold My Sky

 by Melissa Campbell

Today I forget for just a crazy minute

your making love to me,

and how you, a man of your word,

honor every promise for better or worse

and walk the narrow path without looking back

even in the darkest places.

In my weak I forget

your solid determination,

how your muscled arms pull me up

time after time,

and your soft lips kiss me clean,

how with gentle loving

you cover my shame,

and I drink peace.

In this haze of insanity I forget

all the things you are to me,

how I delight in your offering, 

and gain strength from your resolve,

how, when I search for solace,

you rest my soul.

I forget the trace of your finger

turning my heart to you,

how you feed me grace,

and wrap your arms with forgiveness

around my insecurity,

holding me perfectly still,

never letting go.

In the fog I forget.

I stand under a lukewarm spigot,

watch water trickle slow across my skin

and know it's not enough

to quench the burn inside.

My heart splinters ominous

and I can't stop the rage of it,

so I pumice mercilessly

and hope to punish

the grit no one wants to know or see.

And the storm keeps roaring,

and I run to hide

in an ocean of nothingness,

but there's only me.

And while I forget, get lost in crazy,

soul-battered bleed of regret,

you put your hand on the latch of the door

and say it's okay.

You tell the kids I'm just stressed.

I look in the blue of your eyes and know

you won't leave no matter how hard I push,

and I see love beaten there,

not yet crushed,

and I realize,

as my heart drains empty

and I drip naked in a puddle...

...you hold my sky.

For my husband, a man who won't be shaken.   

This poem is part of the Random Acts of Poetry hosted by The High Calling. 

Also linking with other poets at One Shot Wednesday.

Photo Credit: flickr - Mayr