The Hourglass

I have felt your breathing in my heart
wakeful in the langour of the night
and touched the sleeping fingers of your hand
as if in touching I could hold a part
of you that would not flow away, sand
into the glass, beyond and out of sight

You move in sleep and push away my hand
you have other business in the night,
a frowning child intent on castles in the sand
and not to be disturbed, a sight
from times half buried in the heart
Thus close to you and yet apart

I fill the space with my whole heart
I need not touch you with my hand
I shall in silence breathe the part
of you that will outstay the night
the part of you that that’s never out of sight
the part of you that saves my house of sand

And all of us who ever missed a hand,
who are deafened by the beating of the heart
who think ourselves forgotten in the night
whose works are lost in trackless sand
who flow beyond the glass and out of sight
will welcome the release of sleep and part

from those we love and breathe their heart
So wake, and turning take my hand;
we two will travel through the night,
outstay the dark, and leave the part
that we have built on sand
to flow into the glass and out of sight

And we shall share the langour of the night
and measure time in tickings of the heart
and count the decade fingers on a hand
and laugh to see our castles in the sand
and all the things in which we ever had a part
flow down the glass, beyond and out of sight

Take my hand through the night
be my sight my very heart
forgotten sand no more apart