etched into your palm

How should I say it? What I see when I look at your face. Maybe like this: I'm crazy about you.

You came to me again when nothing moved in my heart. When I was overthinking, trying too hard to understand. You released the anchors of my heart. How you did it, I don’t know. But something stirred within me, fiercely, and began to pulse through my veins.

The starry sky shone above us that night, when you took me along that narrow path lined with grass. The early morning dew clung to my hem. The soft cooing of doves filled the night around us. You opened the old forged gate, and before us unfolded a misty garden. You led me gently, dancing through rose-covered walkways. All my senses told me this must be a beautiful dream. Could reality ever be this sweet?

Then you pulled me close with your strong arm, and your gaze met mine. In your eyes, I saw eternity and faithfulness. Your truth nailed my heart to yours. I could only breathe deeply the air around us, as if intoxicated. I laid my head against your chest, and time stopped between us. Somewhere, a dove cooed again.

You wanted to show me something. You bent down the rose vines growing beside us so I could see under their shelter. Among the green stems, two white doves slept, curled into each other for warmth. A quiet coo echoed in the air once more.

When the morning sun brushed its first tones onto the brightening sky, you traced the shape of my body onto your palm. As you drew, I looked again into your eyes. How could I describe the burning fire glowing from them? That wildly strong love made my chest ache. It scorched my core like flames licking from the inside. Everything I had once treasured was now ash beside you.

I had never deserved anything like this. Eternal faithfulness and a wildly blazing love that broke down every barrier between us. A deep sacrifice, a confession of love so raw it wounded even you. Speechless, I danced the first dance of morning for you, on a dew-covered field. From your touch, my filthy dust had turned to golden shimmer in your palm.

Look, how beautiful you are, my beloved; look, how beautiful you are—your eyes are like doves.

—Song of Songs 1:15

Love,

Pia

P.S. this poem like memoir I wrote years back and shared in my other blog in my native language, Finnish. Bringing it into life in English now is such a sweet moment, I wanted to share with you.