The quiet house at dawn
touches me again.
It was our time together
before the business of the day.

We smiled and shared stories.
We rehearsed our dreams in the cool mornings
as you cradled a warm cup of tea in your hands.
We talked of our good fortune
and it was our time to be thankful
for the blessings in our lives.

This dawn, I sit quietly alone
and celebrate our life together.
I celebrate our love.

I weep tears of loneliness
and also tears of joy;
both are born in memories that touch my soul.
Different tears that mix upon my cheek,
melting into each other
just as the ocean gathers all waters.

How I miss your touch
and the gift to live
in the sweet shadow of your love.

July 12, 1997