Until I Follow You Poem by Mark Heathcote

Love hangs upon a star
But it's equally as scared
As a ministering moon,
Whose prayers go unaired?

Who's absent hope abjection?
Cries a harbour light!
"Love me, land on me soon.
It's my only birthright".

But that isn't to say...
The harbour lights of love
Won't descend into puddles,
Potholes of night and shade

Love hangs upon a star
As a ministering angel
And says, I love you, but you
Can't do that; on my vigil.

I'll sail and use my sextant
Till at last, I find you
But I need to be sure of you
Until I follow you.