Mists cling to me
Rain patters my soul;
Torments me
With memories
Beyond my control.
You’re my haven,
My sheltering reef;
Where in crises
I safely retreat.
I see not with eyes,
But as my heart
Recalls words,
It's not rain
But your patter
In all I've heard.
Your voice in dreams,
Your thoughts in my mind...
You're the weathervane—
Where I'm aligned.