Favorite Song

For Zoë

Favorite Song


You are my favorite song, ever written about love. Ever written about why the star shines and the comet flies, why they drop moon dust like clues of our existence upon eyes and dreamy minds.

Song that seeps into sleeping bodies and wakes up like inspiration, buzzing like butterflies, and the Word of the Bible in the bones of human bodies.

The verses of your song sing the tales of fairy tales coming true—the stories of fairies, of mermaids, of magical dragons, and all that we imagine dancing along the life of your tune.

They say the best songs are the ones that move you. You move me in ways no other song can do. I can lay in bed, and all the limbs and leaves of my soul
swing dances along the voice of your smile.

You are to be sung with bright-lit candles on birthday cakes, lyrically illuminating the music notes of wild wishes, twinkling upon the shooting stars coming home.

The lyric of your lullaby is one I can close my eyes to and know delight— 
in the middle of a rainstorm, you are the song of a kiss— of friendship and bliss— of gratitude and galaxies— mystery and magic— and of the simple things—
like lemonade—in the summer days.

Your song drops beats from airplanes flying in your favorite color blue 
falling from crayon colored skies are the seeds that bloom flowers everlasting, endlessly in the sea of my heart’s expansion—then extends past this earth’s surface to prove the power of song.

If ever I need reminding that I am loved, 
your bridge can be played,
connecting reasons to possibility, interlocking joy, holding hands with the poetry inside my body. 
While your wide-eyed heart so succinctly blink beats, detailing    all    the    ways    that God loves me.

You, my favorite song—
connect me to the universe, like church I attend every Sunday— 
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. 
There are no days without your la la la
on every station of my heart-shaped radio, playing the chords of your chorus, turning me into wild poetry— dancing—whole and holy the water I walk through—
        you fill my cup cup.
        you fill it up up. 
It runneth over— over and over.

I inhale every breath of your breathing, a song worth repeating,
music momentarily making me godly.

I rest in peace. If I die here and now,
I have survived a beautiful life since the day you were born because to be loved by a song is a life worth singing, worth dancing, 
worth living, and humming along.

Baby girl, your music enters me. 
Every melody of a memory is like the kisses you blow to me—they are caught with 
holy-ed hands, then placed in my heart for safekeeping.

I hear your music and know now about heaven. And that anywhere, everywhere, is home because even when I am without you, 
I am never again alone— without song.

My favorite song, ever written about love.