In His Hands

I am beautiful tonight
safe and sober,
the general scent of alcohol
hovering in a layer of the air.

I have the most comfortable
chair in the place.
Three candles warmly reminding me
of the one light that is everywhere.

I can still hear the crunching metal,
the shattering glass,
in the car that was done
before it stopped spinning.

My baby is sleeping sweetly,
nothing but a bump.
Less than she brings home from school.
And I am bathed in the music
of my solemate,
colorful and eternal
and infinitely more
than any use in history
of the word Love.

My shoulder aches as my pen begs
to speak.
Inspired, grateful, and Divine.
I've never hurt so good.