Last night: thunder,

clouds parting to reveal the light of a half-moon
obscured too soon but unfolding again and again within

to the wild applause of my beating heart.

I sat up in bed to watch the skies change,

aware you had begun in such a quiet voice

to sing the song I have not heard from you

in so long.

I was not even sure it was you until 

the star, the satellite, the ship appeared

in the deep beyond as if to say
yes, yes, yes.

And then a second star 

shot across the inky skies in the distance

just above the rolling Sangre de Cristo mountains

as if to offer further confirmation:

A sacred chalice lifted up, offering
some measure of mystery, whose meaning
I have yet to discern. 

This morning: stillness,

salmon pink desert clay and the gift of daylight

shared between us as a grace here in this place
of waiting for a second story.