The Rhythm of “We”

SD Sunset Photo By Christian Begeman
SD Sunset Photo By Christian Begeman

I watch my husband sway lightly, rake in hand, and grass flicks into the air escaping the pile he’s making—rebelling against the rhythm of his work.

That used to be me.

When the rhythm of his sleep—the restless legs, the elbow in the face, the hot breath on my nose—made me long for my own space.

When after a meal he’d jump up while the rest of us still ate and started scraping dishes—and also my nerves.

When his stubborn way of speaking the final word would cause an uprising of monologue in my mind.

When his hand upon my back at midnight did nothing to cool my unforgiveness.

Sway—back and forth—we dodged and swayed but some punches still landed.

Sway—back and forth—until we learned to work together.

Sway—back and forth—until the rhythm joined us—each sweeping withered blades of yesterday away.

Sometimes I look at him in his most peaceful moments and all I see is light. And I thank God we learned the rhythm.

Where is the road to the home of light? Do you know where darkness lives, so you can lead it back to its border? Are you familiar with the paths to its home? God to Job (38.19-20).

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