I saw a couple walking down a path.
Arm in hair, white hair, slow steps.
By themselves, you would have thought
Him bent, her wrinkled.
But when she leaned on him, arm through his,
He was strong.
She was more than beautiful
When he looked at her.
And when I looked again, it almost seemed
They chose to walk so slowly down that path
That they might dream each other’s fading dreams
And breathe each other’s breath awhile yet.
They knew how to hold each other up.
Better than anyone. Better than themselves.
Alone, they could not have been strong enough;
Love gave them what they could not give themselves.
Perhaps when they were younger it was not so.
They had walked faster then I think, and not so close.
Sometimes it’s easier, when you’re strong, to walk alone;
But love is stronger still when it’s needed most.
There was no passion of wild love about them now.
Only a depth of knowing, an unconscious care;
And when she looked up and smiled at him,
Her eyes were full of the lifetime they had shared.
Yet if you were to ask them what love is,
They might no longer have the words upon their lips;
But watch the way in which they walk, and live,
And know love by the beauty that it gives.
They each reflected the other’s luminescence
Till no space was left between their souls;
And laying aside love’s trappings, they found its essence
In the beauty that two broken halves can hold.