When at last just you and I are left,
Having shed, through their indifference,
Not our own, the rest,
We will lock eyes and wings for one last flight
And leave behind us harsher worlds than where we go
In curling, quiet streams that,
Blending into one,
Become that mind and heart we always were.
Until that day, the anchors here drop
One by one or sometimes more –
Only so much rope runs out
Before the empty spool lets go –
As I build up the soil bed
In which our bodies will become
Good food for what comes next,
You build the spirit binding us
Forever in a single light.
That spirit’s here and now –
It shelters us from cold and empty space,
Its sweet familiarity runs warm
In both our veins,
Embedding every thought and word
In shared life’s feeding stream.
Still there’s a restlessness,
A vision of what might come next,
With some magnetic pull
As of a tide, an undertow:
As hands release us here,
Its strength grows greater still
Until at that last moment
We will be free.