Ripples in the Still Waters of the Heart

Lighter than air she brushes me,
A feathery stroke along my cheek
And as I draw that inward, shuddering breath
And reflexively reach a hand to my face,
I sense she has returned to this place.

But was she ever gone?
Sometimes the sun feels warmer to me
And I am sure, so sure,
That her light, a quanta or a beam
Has joined that solar stream.

And in the cacophony of the world,
Sometimes I'm certain I hear her voice
A familiar whisper, so delicate and fine,
That, as I tilt my head for the source
Disappears, as if its run its course.

I could think myself alone,
That souls fly back to their perch
Or don't exist at all
That beauty fades into nothing,
And life is meaningless and small.

Yet in those lonely moments,
Unforgiving in their pain
When I ache to feel her warmth
Or run my fingers through her hair,
I am consoled to sense her near.