You're present
when I hear this song.
As if our moments in time
and futures unknown
should belong.

One hears the sound of water
that you hold so dear,
Washing away regret with
all that you fear.

Its rhythm flows
with a simple dark ease,
Facing your story's past
to erase or appease.

Its tempo jumps deep
to be fully fluent,
Voicing your love of life
and become its servant.

Its beat rises to meet
your way of being,
Allowing each climb
to be fleeting.

The song takes its time
to bring us through,
To savor each moment
as a beautiful view.

C. . .
I hope you
like this song,
this ballad.
Oh, I hope I got it right.
I felt your presence,
heard this song,
and wrote this ditty
just tonight.