the sound of my name in your mouth
makes me believe in destiny
and in the smaller things
that hands can hold
and cannot hold
like the warm reflection of sun
on the underside of a buttercup chin
and the precious frailty of baby birds
in their crooked and precarious nests

the shape of me in your eyes
makes me dream of fate
and of the finer things
that minds can see
and cannot see
like the excitement
of inching toward a first love
and the texture
of trees as if they were downy velvet

the thought of me in your heart
makes me hear the sounds of sleeping gods
and the tender things
that souls can feel
and cannot feel
like the quivers of the earth
in anticipation of a quenching rain
and the beat

beat

beat....

of all lovers crashing together
in one glorious
and perpetual song