Here I stand, blank and mute
Unaware that contentment would be this acute.

Awkward in silence, and afraid to speak,
Apprehensive that a thought vocalized would trigger my own critique.

Amazed, and curious, however afraid to ask,
Despite my satisfaction, what made you turn back.

Desperate with the gift of your presence, I push the endless tears behind,
Helter-skelter with enduring questions that coninue to plague my mind.