Asleep

She sleeps, and she does not know
Of the summation of time within me
Becoming this very moment,
When I hold my breath
Knowing what is to come
And not knowing:
Must I grind words on words on words,
Or will the silence of my eyes
Carry their full meaning into her heart
So that without speaking
A light of galaxies springs forth of itself,
Though less than her father's love?

   

Copyright 2003 Bret Lowery