You'll know what you mean to me
At the Northern Lights, or when
The heron breaks from the tree
And your mind is a child again.

Two lives nearby converge
In their predicament
Of love; you'll sense their urge
And what you've always meant

To me. You'll hear a word
That tells more than it says
In music known but unheard
As light on October days

Glows with a fullness more
Than radiance; then you'll know
What you mean to me, the score
Of summers when I'd go

Everywhere, everywhere,
Find nothing in the mess,
Yet now you've brought me here,
Grateful for gratefulness.

The spark that leaps across
To remembrance from the seen
Will tell you; flowers and loss
Will; everything you mean

To me thrums when winds raise
The surface of a lake
And the pulse rises in praise
Past knowing. When you take

Song as a sign and bow
To childhood memory
Of things to come, you'll know
Just what you mean to me.


John Timpane