Prelude

Some nights I watch
As you bow your head,
Perhaps in reverent prayer,
 
And I’m taken by the
Stark wonder of
The moonlight in your hair;
 
And terribly gently
You lift your gaze
To softly draw in mine,
 
And I’m thrust into
The storm and waves
Of something so divine;
 
The brush of your smile
Upon this old soul,
Its wonderment
Dares me be whole;
 
A most timid kiss
It may yet be,
Though it ripples on
Through eternity.