THIS THURSDAY

 THIS THURSDAY

This Thursday morning, as the sun peeks through the curtains,

casting a soft, golden glow across the quiet room,

you occurred to my mind, unbidden yet welcome.

Your presence stumbled in, tripping over the vivid hues

of your Rubik’s-cube complexity—a mosaic of shifting colors,

each twist and turn revealing a new facet of you.

I linger on the puzzle of your soul,

captivated by its intricate layers,

yet daunted by the fear I may never fully unravel it.  

Wanting, as I usually do, to reach you across the miles,

I imagine my voice stretching over the vast expanse,

weaving through the spaces between us.

In between the hum of daily responsibilities—

the ticking clock, the endless tasks, the weight of obligations—

I carve out a longing, a quiet ache to bridge the distance.

The world buzzes on, relentless,

but my heart pauses, suspended in thoughts of you,

of moments when the miles felt smaller,

when our laughter danced in the air like sunlight.  

The recall of memory stirs something deep within,

a flutter of butterflies rising in the pit of my stomach—

a sensation both tender and electric.

Each memory is a seed, planted long ago

in the fertile soil of our shared history,

sprouting into a sprawling landscape of emotions.

We’ve built foundations together, stone by stone,

rooted in trust, watered by understanding,

and from them, we’ve harvested joy,

a cornucopia of moments ripe with meaning.

Yet the fields stretch on,

promising new growth, new stories to tell.  

Though I try to steady myself,

to talk down the fears that loom like storm clouds,

they linger, persistent and unyielding.

Loss and insecurity shadow my steps,

creeping behind closed doors I’ve bolted shut.

I secure them with a padlock,

its cold metal a frail shield against the whispers

that seep through the cracks—

reminders of what I could lose,

of the vulnerabilities I cannot outrun.

Still, I tread the planks of fear with cautious feet,

hoping to silence their creak,

to find solid ground beneath me once more.  

But amidst this tempest of doubt, there is a constant—

my unwavering belief in you.

If nothing else, let this be what you carry with you:

from my steady presence, my quiet entrance into your world,

know that I am a believer.

I see the strength in your spirit,

the fire in your resolve,

and I stand beside you,

rooted in faith that you will rise,

that your potential knows no bounds.  

You, the visionary, with dreams as pure as snow,

untouched and glistening under a winter sky,

paint a future I long to witness.

Your aspirations shimmer like frost on a still morning,

inviting me to look beyond the ordinary,

to dream alongside you in hues of white and wonder.

I am drawn to your light,

inspired by the clarity of your vision,

and I offer my hands to help shape it,

to add my colors to the canvas you’ve begun.  

As this Thursday morning stretches into day,

I hold fast to a fragile hope—

that the miles will one day dissolve,

that the complexities will soften into understanding,

that the fears will fade like mist in the sun.

Until then, I cradle the memories close,

nurturing the thread that ties us together,

unbroken despite the distance.

And so, I step into the hours ahead,

heart brimming with anticipation,

believing in the visionary you are,

in the journey we share,

in the promise of what still lies ahead.