Out here, I feel a shift;
Familiar, but in the way of an old friend
I haven’t seen in a while.
Solo drives through deserted roads
Have a unique feel:
Therapeutic, calming, healing,

But this feels different

Because the only thing I’ve broken
Is the physical proximity to you
Our little one.

There was a time when this
Made sense to me:
A life spent living
Out of a suitcase
And staring out from
Behind a steering wheel.
When once I thought ‘itinerant’ and ‘ascetic’
Were synonymous with ‘prophetic.’

A life spent away.

But hearts, I’ve learned, are healed
In other ways. And ‘missionary’ doesn’t
Have to mean a lonely death
On the doorstep of
A far-off place.

I am restored by the familiar shape
Of your body next to mine.
Even as it has changed along our
Nine month wait for the arrival of
Our newest member.

I am healed by the soft to LOUD, s l owtofast
Chime of your laugh that
Comes in response to your own

I am found in the warm
Recognition, the softening of your iris,
As I walk through the door.
30 hours away was once a small ask.
It is now on the edge of too much.

 Cliffs of Moher. 2015. Credit: AJ Joven

Cliffs of Moher. 2015. Credit: AJ Joven