Little Big Love

I’ve been thinking about love lately,

as women often do.

Thinking about slow kisses under the night stars, and

brilliant adventures filled with just

the right mix of

danger and

thrill.

I’ve been thinking about fear lately.

Really, because my friends have.

They fear heights and unemployment and

loss and grief.

But most of all, they fear

the absence of love.

Sometimes I just sit

there,

nodding my head along.

I too share this fear.

But it feels almost disingenuous as I

then return home to

my

abudance of love.

And oh, how abundant it is.

Abundant like California poppies in the fields of summer;

like Northern pike migrating in the cascading Alaskan rivers -

plentiful, and bountiful, and magical.

This love is all-consuming, but not in a pervasive way.

It is gentle in a steady way.

It is electrifying, but in a safe way.

It is challenging in a stimulating way.

It is passionate and pure and perfect.

So I’ve been thinking about it

now that some distance (spatial and temporal) exists and

acts as a kind of barrier.

I’ve been thinking about my friends and their woes and trials and tribulations

and all I can say is I am grateful.

Grateful to be here thinking

rather than reminiscing.

Grateful to be here experiencing

rather than being experienced.

And grateful, oh so grateful,

for this little big love of mine.