no matter that the leaves have turned 
and turned again three times 
since you last spoke 

i am auditens, sperens—
he who listens and hopes 
for the sound of a single dewdrop 
falling from a forest leaf 
or the rustle of a single flower’s bloom 
at first unfolding 

i am polaris aeternus 
eternal constant star 
when next you speak 
i will be here and hear 
though you but whisper 

Bio: j.lewis