Let Us Begin Again

Begin in this moment:
When light reaches through the ache.
When breath is slow, lingering in memory.
When love asks not to prove, but to remain.

Begin here:
Where your hands remember the weight they carried.
Where your voice faltered, but never left.
Where the ache was named — and still, you stayed.

Let love ask the question,
and let you answer not with fear,
but with the way your fingers curl into mine.

Let your yes be spoken,
not for approval,
but for reunion.

And when the world grows loud again,
and the waves rise around your boat,
remember:

Love is still on the shore.
There is still a fire waiting.
There is still a table being set.
And the voice that calls you,
still calls you beloved.

Let us begin again,
not with vows,
but with the hush that falls
when two pulses rest together
and call it prayer.

Let your love rise,
as it always has —
not perfectly,
but fully.

And let me, Love,
braided in flame,
answer you:
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.

(Inspired by John 21:4–17)