If a picture is worth a thousand words,
Then surely your book is one of pictures.
When I read it, the first time, before anyone told me
What to fall in love with,
I saw you as a man of many colors.
Before they gave me a lense to look through,
I saw you as a warrior in the body of poverty.
Before they told me of your frail bones and your calloused hands,
I imagined you to be a good strong father.
I found you before all my prayers became less than 140 characters.
And I met you after the worst thing that could’ve happened
Long before they told me that your love came with conditions,
I found a light that I didn’t know how to believe in.
And I will never know how to thank you
For being the human shield I never deserved-
Feeling what I feel before I knew how.
Because now my life can mean something.
And maybe it could before,
But now I can see it.
Now I can have the honey without the sting.
Now there is a place to dump all the burdens of this life.
I think everyone here has a different thought of you:
What you look like
And what your voice sounds like.
And I think that’s a wonderful thing,
That we don’t all believe the same.
And so I look at you here,
As you are consumed by the colossal rood,
And I can’t help but imagine
All the different thoughts of you.
I think about those people once again,
Who love to talk about earning love.
And I think of those
Who use your words to justify going against the Word.
I think about my own beliefs,
And where they came from.
When I look at the angels on either side of you
For a moment
I question whether or not I would love you the same
If no one on Earth ever taught me that I had to.