Early Spring Morning 2

I write you from the edge of things
the corners of rooms
and margins of old atlases
where dragons live
and sea monsters swim

It is here where I marvel at each dawn
and wonder if you are well
and sleeping
and have enough to eat
enough to dream

I write to you from the center
of the universe as I know it
the tiny corner of space
where you used to live
and where your voice sang hymns
of praise and restoration