A Love Like a Lake

My love is a lake—
quiet as daybreak,
steady in its wake,
soft in every breath it takes.

It stays in its place,
a calm embrace,
holding the light
that drifts across your face.

And when you turn back,
the water keeps track—
it knows your sky,
your blue, your black.

Your murmured thunder,
your sudden rain—
the lake lets wonder
settle in your name.

And when the storms roam,
the lake becomes home—
a widening space
that asks you to come home.

Because you are the earth
my waters chase,
the constant shore,
my resting place.

So like a lake,
I keep you near—
a quiet ache,
a softer fear,
an unmoving love
that’s always here.

—

Written: February 14, 2024
By Casey Huang
From the Still Poetry House archive