Suppose the poems of years ago
when we were young
were long forgotten - but our hearts remembered
the debris of the words - the love
the warmth, the distance transformed
into a prayer. 

Suppose the poems of years ago
when we were close
were true and our souls always knew
the miles between our words is an illusion. 
Love does not erode with time
and still, though the poems are lost
the prayers still ring in God's ears.