Do you feel his presence
all the time now? she said,
and I imagined she meant
do I find signs of you
in spilled salt, in the background
of my reflection, in the light
behind the trees, in the color
of the sky, in the shape of clouds.
No, I scoffed.
And then I thought of how,
in every moment
I beam love to you,
and how I feel you
receive it, how I feel you
send love back.
Yes, I said. Yes,
I feel his presence
all the time. Not some
abstract experience, but
something vital as blood,
something integral as breath,
no longer separate—
you the love that fuels me
from the inside.