That sense of a voyage
Slips seamlessly past,
For there is a finite beginning
And end to everything.

And yet a sense of connection,
A bejewelled purpose too,
Like the child 
Whose way ahead 
You’ve already lit,
Or the lover you’ve yet to meet.

Many such moments 
Come and go, as they must,
Melting away 
Into the space we are given. 

But what endures for me 
Is a persistent resonance,
Some heady wish 
For access again 
To a sense of wonder, 
In the stream of things,
That, this time round,
It might just be possible 
To keep in my heart 
A little longer.

So tarry with me awhile
And we will see 
What we can do 
To tenderly explore
Beneath the frail shell 
Of all we’ve since become.   

Trusting that, maybe within 
Such smoothly sculpted casing, 
And still delicately enclosed,
Might just lie the silky lustre
Of some lavish 
And joyful communion,
Waiting for its chance 
To grip and catch the light again.