of days when I knew
you were waiting somewhere
running your fingers
o’er words written there
of those I imagined –
I cling to them still
and sleep within places
you rest unaware

as one with a moment
I can’t be forsaken –
by changes in weather
a shift in the wind
of love without time
or need for becoming –
as is
I am there
in your places
again

of mornings some place
much nearer than now
to sit in the quiet of night
with your name
resolved to a feeling
(I can’t understand)
while others I questioned
each reason the same

from the places you are
the places of me
are times when you think
on your own destiny –
do you wonder (I wonder)
sometimes until dawn
where I am –
how I know –
what of us will become

as it is
it is ever –
even now I am near
as your hand to the pages –
as a smile to your tears

loving arms
to remind you –
as was once you did me
when the dark
was surrounding  –
(you were something to see)

like the end
a beginning –
both the same (to my soul)
a whisper of promise –
was a dream
taking hold

. . .