What do we say here,

here in this breathless hour?

This hour that came after the many we waited. 

The hour of hands held and tears wiped

and that quiet vibration that dances across the floor

and whispers:

"Lean into me and hear, You

are exactly where you are supposed to be."

What words do we say here,

what could possibly do justice 

to all we will become?

We are, and today was the most eloquent proof of it

we could ever offer, simply indescribable. 

We are wordless.

We are the empty space after a long paragraph, 

the pause  between chapters, the blank pages

at the end of the most brilliant and breathtaking book.

We are that wordless and perfect silence

before the book is snapped shut. 

We are without words because the ones that could actually explain

us have yet to be invented,

have yet to be cataloged and defined, accepted by Webster

and printed for the world to learn.

What do we say here,

here in this breathless moment?

This moment that will fall away to make room

for a lifetime more,

this moment that came after a million others, 

all leading us here.

This moment of stolen glances and frozen seconds

and the foreheads leaning into chests

filled with hearts beating

like drums in the night.

This moment that whispers:

"Lean in and here ... You are home."

 

-Tyler Knott Gregson-