Astrolabe and atlas of my love

When I close my eyes
I see her, sunnier than any skies,
the smile lines like a sunrise on her face.
Her body charts my future's boundaries--
a neck, an arm, a waist--
the map to trace
the countours of my life. That I should be
cartographer of such uncharted grace!
My hope laid out like virgin territory--
each hollow, hill and valley
of my faith in tomorrow
as visible as a countryside to me.
I'm not so blind as to think the plains and furrows
of our life together hold no sorrows,
but I have faith that soon
the tears our crying sows
as saltwater with water laughter's bloom,
and her bright voice will laught the rain to scorn.
Though dusk may draw up like a sheet, her eyes
will open like the dawn.