Missing Piece

What you tell me can never,
never effect me as deeply
as when our eyes meet,
and a smile crosses your lips.

For how can one describe
something as natural,
and as magical,
as a painted horizon at dawn?

Nature has produced much:
soft evening rains,
dense green forests,
cool flurries,
and quiet thunderstorms.

And Her foresight,
Her perfect plan
has let me hold your hand
and watch the rain fall,
feel the thunder roll through both of us.

Though the sunset is fleeting,
and her beauty unique in perfection,
She may always be summoned
in memory and photograph.

The sun finally falls,
and I gaze at the stars
in your eyes.

My heartbeat slows
and your smile,
like many nights before,
tells me what words cannot.