Monday, July 25, 2016

with passion, devotion, and awe

Ah, Joan. . .

Joan on Northern California coast,  Gualala,  2015

Ah, Joan,
how hard it is
with mere words
to capture my love for you,
no container can hold it,
no survey define it,
no miner plumb its depths,
no climber scale its heights,

to see you through my eyes. . .
to express how you make me feel. . .

I feel better about how well
I’ve been able to hold with words
the soaring beauty of a sunrise,
the supple perfection of a rose,
the quiet laughter of a cascading mountain creek.

You, my love,
deep and sure,
grounded in the solid truth of the earth herself,
high and risky,
soaring thoughts guided by a giving heart,
within and knowing,
weaving together the fragile threads of the moment.

Joan at Arch Rock, Mt. LeConte, Smokies, December '15

Joan at Bag End, New Zealand, February '16

Joan, Jedediah Smith State Park, redwoods, Crescent City, CA

You, my love, carry your beauty
from the depths of your soul,
through the grace of your countenance,
to the fairness of your face.

God never made a better Joan
than a Joan Dickinson,
and, if she did,
it was a Joan Walker.
You honor the world with your presence.

With passion and devotion and awe,
I love you.

by Henry H. Walker
sometimes in the 1980’s, edited July, ‘16

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