What it Means to Love a Good Man

He wakes each morning
with a fast and heavy breathing
it wakes me with a sense of panic

He gets up
That lionhearted soul
determined to slay the dragon of that day

for me
for mine

And at night
His breath is deep like thunder
rumbles about the room

I try to contain my own heavy breathing
lungs struggling to stifle tears
of gratitude
of amazement
of pleading in prayer

He needs his sleep
He needs to be rested

1 comment:

cristie said...

thank you for loving that good boy. xox