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.