Hillary Titus

Not born beneath my beating heart,
yet written there before we met.
Your name was whispered in my quiet hours,
a promise waiting for its breath.

You came with stories already begun,
with skies I did not see you under.
I did not give you your first dawn,
but I will stand beside your thunder.

Love is not measured by beginnings.
It is built in the steady choosing.
In every ordinary morning,
we become a family, without losing.