Till the Time We Share an Oak

I reached out and found your hand
like I did last night
and the week before,
the month before that
and three years ago.
All before my eyes had found you
and burned your image in my heart

I remember reaching out as a child
your hand was there,
with its freckles and lines.
But you weren't born yet.
You remembered me from before.

I reached out for your hand
before I was born
and I found it.
Your soul found mine,
our hands held.

I reached out for your hand,
I found the reason to live.
I found the reason to stay here,
reaching, sharing my life, birth and death
with you, waiting until the time when
I don't have to reach
because you are here.

Kathleen Hover
02/15/04