Bedroom Promises
They say there is a whole world out there,
somewhere beyond the white curtains of this bedroom.
Outside, on any day, I smell smoke.
I walk to work.
I have a glass of wine.
I pay a bill.
I walk home.
Somedays, I cry for all the broken things. But then,
watching the rain bounce off the grizzled sidewalk reminds me. But more so,
the sound of the rain now from our bed sheets….
This is it, isn’t it? The promise of I do: The day
to watch a small patch of grass grow out of the city’s patch of dirt;
the day to leave a bigger tip; the day with the sunset;
the day that begins again, together.
What I mean, ever since I met you—my capacity to witness beauty
and life,
swells into an entire world of its own.
How it is: your love making me kinder,
making me gentler. Making me, our life,
far too short and endlessly long.
To commit to you each day,
the slow tender growing of city grass.
Commit to
the slow tender beauty of us in a world
not so often cruel,
made softer by the presence of our love.
What a blessing you are to me, what a blessing our love is to them.
– Zinnia Smith
About Zinnia Smith
PS - This poem was written FOR Dearly Studio and for that we are eternally grateful.
