Poem To My Husband Theodore

The Very Shroud of Turin
Couldn't Capture Your Face The Way
Its rays fell softly onto my bedsheets this morning
sadness was heavy and hungry for me and i was at peace
If Jesus isn't real, then who is this Spirit that Quickens me
to rise up again and again every morning?  No faith
can only take one part of the way, and I feel Him With Me Now
Comforting, Reassuring, Like a Gentle Hand 
in the small of my back, gently guiding me onwards
and i do not fear to falter nor stumble, for Jesus Himself
Is the man who comes home to me Every night, and Jesus
is the one I Cradle in bed and cooks me chocolate chip pancakes
when i have a cold.  No the tender mercies of the lord sent me you.
My Life, My Love, My Salvation, My Husband, My Guiding Light
In a dark dark night, is You my husband Theodore.  
In Jesus' Name, Amen.