Sentient



I sit in silence,
Watching your lashes
Flutter before your roving eyes.
My quiet breath
In a lilting rhythm
With your deep-slumber sighs.

I study your features,
Graceful and undisturbed;
Your lips the slightest smile.
Your face so peaceful,
In deep-dreaming bliss -
Forever, if a while.

I can’t deny the urge,
Your lazy hand outstretched
To hold my hand, it seems.
What visions do you see?
I cannot help but wonder.
I wish I knew your dreams.



Don L. Waddell, 1997