Sunday your in Seattle

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I woke early.
Light was vacant from the world still
Quiet was settled like a cloak around
The house I have come to call ours.

My eyes shut.
I could hear the sound of your breathing
Echoing the rhythm of My rebuilt heart
That makes this precious time possible.

Your soft form.
Filling the void that was My companion
Making sense of each and every moment
Completing My circle with effortless grace.

My hand fumbles.
Finds the phone that joins us constantly
Words written and spoken through ether
Conducting our connection so magically.

I settle back.
Ear pressed to pillow but listening
Knowing the screen will flash soon
And you will speak to Me softly again.

I stir reactively.
Peeking through half closed eyes reading
Words with abstract insignificance except
I am with you momentarily and always.

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