Missing you again

The ice glares white from Greenland twenty thousand feet below;

Again I’m midway somewhere you are not.

The sky’s a rare forever blue . . .

And once again, I’m missing you.

I miss your busy-ness and peace; the music in your face,

the grace of nimble hands and gentle voice,

the mind that keeps aloft a score

of juggled, colored balls – or more.

Away once more, it all comes back to me – how can I bear

to miss a day’s sweet possibilities?

Your hand is somewhere mine is not;

your wired words are not enough.

For worlds away, you breathe and sleep and think and love and see . . .

without me. And even when I’m there,

sometimes we drift alone, apart

and miss the harmony of hearts

that makes the green world sing for us on our best days together.

A week apart reminds me of that music.

I have a complicated mind,

but still a simple heart defined

by missing you.