What we have is beautiful, nothing less than a dream …

A few full moments, and eons of anticipation…
A conversation that began many miles ago, and goes on…

A rest house for my heart as it grows through days and lives and
wanders among deserts…

A drop of wine for a thirst that burns…

A fingernail moon that scrapes the youthful night-sky
and a star that shimmers like divine balm…

What we have seems rare, maybe only the one –
Maybe, I think, there must be a god, and he must
watch tenderly over our every breath…

Maybe, I think, the seasons umbrella our ruinous days and
scatter roses to perfume our nights…

Maybe, I think, gardens blossom right where we stoop in defeat

What we have is like a believer’s true prayer…

What we have is beautiful, nothing less than a dream
What we have is timeless, and nothing more than a dream…