The Long Journey

I notice           
       that you stutter           
       as you utter                       
                       my name;   
And I can feel                 
                  the rubbing             
              and hear                     
                        the flutter                                
                                    of your sleeves                                
                                    around my face                                              
                                                          as you hug me                                              
                                                          again and again.    

       It is a bitterly cold                        
                            and windy day,                        
                            and we seem to be                                         
                           in the midst                                    
                                          of it all,                                               
                                                     I am afraid.                        
                           Right in the very fray.    

      we cannot fret                       
                          about it,          
     nor can we be                     
                       delayed - 
                               we have a long way
                                                            to go yet,                                  
                                  a very long way,
                                                           before we rest.