Her Best

She calls me your very best for her—
I only ask that you mean it so.
And if there’s a doubt in your starry mind,
dear god I ask that you lay me low.

Lay me low in the moldering clay,
if one harsh look or a bitter word
exists deep down in this heart of mine,
so that it may never be seen nor heard,

so that she may live the span of her years
believing the absolute best of me,
trusting forever the love she holds
is the love I keep till she follows me.

But if you look and you see the man
she thanks you for each day of her life,
then please dear god will you guide my will
so I never bring her a moment’s strife?

Will you teach me all that I need to know
to be that childlike soul she sees,
tender as dew on the bamboo’s leaf,
gentle as hope on the slightest breeze?

Will you grant me health and the quiet strength
to stand with compassion at her side
for however long we both may live,
whatever fates roll in with the tide?