Connecting Teaching to Practice

*Connecting

Connecting Teaching to Practice

It always looked like love to me

To have two hands clutching

Strolling down long streets

Where remnants of couples' imprints

Side by side

Toe to toe

Stay, reminiscing romances

Beneath sunshine and moonlight

Two hands holding to me

Looks like love

I have watched

Head leaning on shoulder

Gently kissing biceps in exchange

For kissing foreheads

Locking looks, to locking smiles

And locking lips

Touching faces with fingertips,

Cupping cheeks with palms

Bumping heads and staying

In stillness

Deeper looks into eyes

I sigh because

In these tender moments,

I’ve seen two spirits

Tend to each other’s hearts

And watching these affections

Were my love lessons

And my teachers

Are the wisest lovers I have ever known

My mother taught me

That love is giving

You see, my mother gave her hands to

Making meals and feeding her family

I watched my father enjoy every bite

And to this day I still do not see him

Slouch in satisfaction

At any other table, but hers

He always sits for a moment before

Leaving his seat, and while he filled.

She feels fulfilled.

In my last visit home

I woke to my mother at her stove

And on the table was a cup of coffee

and bread to its side

Waiting for my father, that morning,

And the next

and the next

But her giving does not end

or begin in her kitchen

Her generosity is beyond daily practice,

My mother gives and rarely takes

And she gives without cause or prompting

She gives to him because

He receives with such gratitude

Which is what my mother has taught me

Is the greatest gift from a loved one we can receive

She also taught me love is speaking

She never hesitated to reveal her disappointments

When my father would forget

Or he would place blame her way

When she knew she was right and

Even when she didn't know she was right

If she at least thought she was right,

She would say so

And she built in my sister and me

A vocal track that replicates her own

That never delays- is always right on time

And not fearful to say the most up front

Honest words of love and of willingness

She speaks her open heart often

Never afraid of the vulnerability that

May bring her aching

Mostly my mother taught me love is trust

Trust in your partner, in your relationship, in yourself

And in what goodness awaits past struggle and hardship.

She worries, and prays often still,

But she trusts in us,

And especially my father

to be by her side

to keep her best interests in mind

to live for her well being

She trusts this from him

because he has shown her

Time and times again

That he sees her worth

My father taught me

Love is patience

Most days my mother's mouth could not resist

Speaking words that I know pushed my father

Past his temper's limits

And though my father would become red in his ears

He kept mindful in his breath and

Silent in these moments

Until he was ready in his will to speak against her

Which ultimately was speaking to right her

In wrong she often is too stubborn to admit

This happens often, but in his patience

My father keeps himself steady

To allow her to release

And then with his nerves felt they need to

He would speak his own peace

My father also taught me love is humor

He never hesitated to bring light and joy

To any situation

My father often made jokes toward my mother

and she would make them right back toward him

She was never as successful, my dad knew it

And she knew it too

My father's laughter is the greatest and

He shares it with my mother often

He never hesitates in his humor

He brings back innocence to their relationship

He brings smiles to her face

He still tickles her until she giggles

And until whines

and hugs her with huge grins

And brought the girl in her out to play

He loves her that happily in this honest way

Mostly my father taught me love is work

All my life I watched my father spend late nights

Grave shifts

3 jobs

To work for his family

And still to this day

He comes home to my mother

and provides her hands to hold

That have been labored to the bone

Finding peace in that grasp of palms

and fingers intertwining

I remember when my mother went away

Months passed and he continued to work

To keep havings for her to come home to

I remember when she was ill

In work he kept on

Providing when she felt she had little work left in her

My father stayed beside her

During imprisonment

and sickness

and in poverty

and he worked for love

He worked because he knew love was her

I know how rare my parent's relationship is

Because these days

I know how rare it is

To commit

To not want to quit

To give and

To speak and

To trust,

To have patience,

To have humor

Because love is work.

But for me, there is no other way

Because my parent's taught me

That love looks like what they have

And I connect these teachings

To how I choose to love

And I feel proud of my parents

For all they are with and to each other

And I thank them

For my love lessons

And for being my teachers

Who are without a doubt

The wisest lovers I know.