A Work in Progress

I've been writing this poem
since the moment I met you.

Call it a work in progress.

It was supposed to be a
concise yet complete explanantion
of how you transformed
my understanding of life.

I doubt that anyone
knows how to write this poem.
This is not the sort of thing
they teach in Poetry 101.

I could compare you to things,
important, life-sustaining things
like the sun, or water, or bread.
I could allude to poets long dead and buried
to attain the images I seek.

But I want this to be yours.

I want to dedicate
this ration of human thought
to all that you are:
faithful daughter,
loyal friend,
true-hearted companion,
mother-to-be.

My past and future are united in your love,
as the man who once was
evolves into the man
you dreamed he could be.