On my back in the dew-sprinkled grass,
I sink into the warmness of myself.
Beside me, the brook sings through the rocks,
harmonizing your name in crystal tones.
My fingers dig into the soft dirt,
seeking confirmation of their origin.
Above me, the branches of the trees
whisper incessantly of you,
voicing their thoughts in the shafts of sunlight
that sneak through their leaves.
Later, I sit quietly
in front of the fire,
warming my bones
and gazing into the flames.
Their bright, delicate tendrils reach out to my place
and in their touch I feel the heat
of your eyes, the warmth of your hands.
I look heavenward,
idly dreaming....
Out in the velvet of the night sky
the stars mirror your face.