The Tongue and the Heart

As with the hemispheres
 [ ... ]

Come and look at the sun!
 [ ... ]

A little jug of wine
     And glasses for two:
Yours, of course, and mine,
     Just for me and you.

Glazed breakable clay
     And full to the spout
On the exciting day
     When we shared it out.

The wine went overboard
     At every tilt
Of the jug we so eagerly poured
     Reckless of whether it spilled.

Whenever we lifted the jug
     We could not decide
How much of its weight and glug
     There might be left inside.

Though all that we’ve attempted
     Has come to pass
And the jug nearly emptied
     There’s still wine in the glass.

Within my arms there is a space
That aches for you, though you are there
Just over the horizon
Of the passing moment,
Reading a book, or in a chair.

Heads together under the water,
Heads together over sky,
Patient until its edges
Form their promise of
A landscape of the by-and-by.

There is a story in all shape.
There is memory in an embrace.
And things like missing pieces
Eventually turn up
Like love, in their hiding place.