of meaning unspoken
I was a dreamer –
dwelling on words yet unsaid
rolled as a quilt
and stored on the dresser
with mysteries waiting
unread

the start of forever
and I would be willing
to trade every moment til then
for one more beginning
another ascending
were heaven decided
again

by the touch
of the sunlight
warm through the window
moonlight burnt
by the trees
loving regard
for something made over
and living to bend
as we please

a distant horizon
much more than a promise –
were reason
a truth unrevealed
as rivers to carry
a heartbeat to ferry
passion remembers us
still

kept by tomorrow
as blessings to borrow –
forever – as will
to allow
pressed as the morning
against my returning
– tis there I’ll find you
somehow

. . .