There are no groups of stars in the sky
or aromatic things one can find
which replicate the warmth of your
mellow echo in our live
bodies as we
dance our way
through this confusing space.
Green mountains aren't so different
from dunes along The Lake,
although at times we choose to find
each as its own landscape.
Drifting across the bridge between our lives,
we have seen the stars,
and the open water and the moon.
We've returned soon
able to look deep into
your reflection.
As the thread of each moment becomes
the past, it weaves a cradle.