He Speaks in Truths

He is a man who speaks in truths, with a certainty that holds the crisp promise of a clear blue sky. 

He makes promises.  He knows his ability to achieve them lies far beyond his capacity and yet he fills my head with his promises and wills me to hear them as truth.   I hear what he wants me to hear, and he hopes with all his heart that he will protect me from disappointment.   

Disappointment is all I can see at six o’clock as he fails to fulfill his promises.  I screech at him and call him a liar. Trust vanishes.  Doubt, like so many dandelion fluffs, scatters noxious weeds across an otherwise pleasing landscape.  Irritation explodes in a rapid fire, machine gun barrage of angry words. 

At nine o’clock, he is pompously arrogant.  His desire to protect me pierces me with arrows of annoyance.  Infected by their poison, I turn the barbs outward, cutting him deeply as I push him away.

A man who holds on to his beliefs with the tenacity of a dog with a bone appears before me at twelve o’clock. His refusal to bow to negative expectations is inspiring.  In world filled with conflict and confusion, his confidence in his abilities provides me with an endless source of comfort. 

He speaks to me with his heart at three o’clock.   Manifesting his dreams, he paints the beauty of the truth he wants for me.  In a landscape that is littered with Alice sized rabbit holes, he is my rock; my safe place to stand. He is the blessing of hope, the acknowledgment of the possibility of the impossible.  At three o’clock he is my beloved and I am eternally grateful for him.

He is a man who speaks in truths, with a certainty that holds the crisp promise of a clear blue sky.