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.