‘Her hand in his, He become her tomorrows’ – Atticus

I don’t know if its in the way he matches my pace.  if it is in the way our hand fit one another like a cup of hot chocolate in a cold day.  If its in the way he firmly hold my hand to lead the way.

I don’t know if its in the way he granted every wish my heart command before my mouth has the chance to speak of it.  If its in the way he catches the falling leaves and made simple gestures feel like a grand plan.

I don’t know if its in the way he looks at me as if I am made of billions of stars brighter than all those stars above us combine.

I don’t know if its in his willingness to hold my silence sacred, to understand my silence more than my words.  I don’t know if its in the way he allows me distant and hold the space for my silence, to walk, to sit, to look at each other and smile in silence, silence that fills with so much love, care and compassion.  I don’t know if its in the way our heartbeat matches the rhythm of our breaths.

I don’t know if its in the way he chant the old chant that lies hidden in the deep recess of my soul.

I don’t know if its in his simple past, his sacred dream of the future or the strong grounding of his presence

That my heart has been drawn to his, strong and steady, melting and surrendering.

Photo and words by Peggy Santosa