Quite Unconventionally

 Quite Unconventionally

(“To my dear friend Gaius, whom I truly love.” 3 John 1:1b)

My dearest Andrew,
You asked me recently if I thought you were a true friend and
if people considered you
ugly.
I cannot read minds, I can barely read my own,
but this much is sure,
you have captured my heart like
a wood-burning stove on an autumn evening.
You are the one who takes my weeping heart for
drives in the hills when you know I am trapped
between walls and fences. And when things got
really bad
(for you or for me)
there was cabernet in glasses and a couch to cry on.
You are better looking than most dare to be;
our hearts are made of the same stuff and we love
quite
unconventionally.

My dearest Sandra,
You told me recently that you thought you were not pretty.
And, why, I wonder, would you consider such a harsh opinion?
You say you have a voice that no one wants to hear,
and yet I cannot wait for each time we get to chat.
You have captured my heart like a walk in the woods,
like a field of wheat waving in the breeze while we
unpeel layers of trauma without fear. You are the one
who takes my fearful heart and, with the voice of a child,
gives me more space, more grace, than most would dare.
And when things got
really bad
(for you or for me)
there were the silences that filled the moment fully,
and I sat on your swing remembering everything good.
You are more beautiful than most dare to be,
our voices are made of the same stuff and we love
quite
unconventionally.