scrambling across
the snow fields of west street
dreaming the on-coming storm
i realized i could find you
through the deepest blizzard
& the fiercest cold
with eyes closed if need be.
you called your voice a gift
(from the angels, no doubt)
so filled with pain and passion,
that i set out then & there
just to touch your face & hair
to kiss your hands & hug you
if only for a moment
in the shadow of eternity.
your soul is a magnet for my soul
an irresistible intent
an instinctive yearning
for knowledge beyond words
which say nothing.
we reach into eternity
with human hands of clay
& find within the center
of ourselves
angelic hearts of gold.