This was conceived deep in the core of the winter of 2010, when at 10 pm she and I would sneak out into the night and look to the sky.  Together, though separated by parts of four states.  Connected by the miracle of the telephone, if we were lucky, or the Godsend of text messaging, we looked up at the moon, to the stars, or to the overcast, and acknowledged it as  “our sky”.

Because no matter the distance, we took comfort in the fact that we were indeed standing under and staring at the same sky.

“Happy 2011, my love.”

This was then written during the summer of 2011, during those glowing moments when I was allowed to break through. Those beautiful, aching, brief hours during warm summer evenings, I outside, pacing through damp spring-laden grass, …she, her grace,  inside her home, 900 miles away,  seated on the kitchen floor.

And I would burst through, smashing the glass and metal of restraint with fury, making the phone ring, feeling passion and love like I had never before, kindled, and then unbridled.

When contact, so sweet, so needed, was made…..when we could breathe together, hear each other laugh, cry together, and fight the battle together for once in lieu of  apart.

When we struggled to say goodnight, and when we did, we knew power in this.

When We listened.

Now it is somewhat prophetic.

The sky to the south

looks like home

for the answer lies there

and anywhere I may go

the sky shows me

where love has settled in

and where it did begin

Set free to believe

like I did when I was a kid

when I thought I had a chance

I need to go

where my heart asks, where it demands

and for the first time

I’m listening to it.