Steady Light
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Her love is like a steady light—
not the flash of fireworks overhead,
not the brilliant sudden burning,
but the lamp beside the bed.
The one that's always on when you come home,
the one that doesn't flicker or go out,
the one that needs no special occasion,
the one that never asks about
what you've done to earn the light—
it simply shines because you're there.
That is her love. That steady, patient,
ordinary, extraordinary care.
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Her love is like a steady light—
not the flash of fireworks overhead,
not the brilliant sudden burning,
but the lamp beside the bed.
The one that's always on when you come home,
the one that doesn't flicker or go out,
the one that needs no special occasion,
the one that never asks about
what you've done to earn the light—
it simply shines because you're there.
That is her love. That steady, patient,
ordinary, extraordinary care.
