I miss the feel of where I ought to be;
Where mind and matter both direct me toward,
And where, I know, I would live happily
Accompanied by her I have adored.
But I know why I'm not there well enough;
I am no stranger to this constant lack,
So, while I won't pretend it isn't tough,
I come about it on a different tack
Right now: instead of whining how I miss
Her smile, her arms, her very presence, or
Apostophizing how I love her kiss,
I'm here to do a thing that should count more:
To say I'll be there soon, and I'm aware
Exactly when I get to join her there.
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