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That brief meeting of our years I could not measure;
To have known you had some measureless reward. To have felt there in that happenstance of time, Your spirit, beauty, fragile loving touch May have been reward for being; The only reason why sweet time was given, To strangers struggling for release from pain, To wanderers timid and somehow afraid.
We must let others search for cause and meaning And let them measure how, why and when, And we, we must accept what we were given, A joy that comes too seldom and to few, An incomplete, but surely burning knowledge, Once two strangers met, felt, and knew.
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