Speak To Me With Light

He winces contritely, The new silver in his hair Is only a wise light. I try not notice for only He is only my life. I stare with abandon, My wine glass And how it fills red, violet, white And can only be the vessel for reflection The filament spreads evenly And this liquid delights. I retrace the warmth of the quiet To the long mountain road at midnight The trees in the headlights The thick forest blackness Hours of clean air I crack the car window Freezing July tonight. It is longer than expected, But I know how to wait. No longer a wispy maiden with eyes of dread. Life is this heartbeat He glances at me often on the curvaceous up climb Our mature honeymoon Captured in memories' sight. I tell him this is a good place to stop. It is frightening to be at the top of the wilderness in the cold, But be bold for the cosmos has an order That fills every space with spectacle, In the pitch, there is no interference. No glaring light bulbs or street signs. Only creation's windows. He winds me into his arms, Our celestial bodies are now the heat Against the shiver--Death's a small disturbance Speak to me with light my love For existence only When the only cover for sleep will be these stars.