when I dip my fingertip in the lake, I think of you

We scattered.
Buds driven by wind
Over sea-sawing lakes.
Ripples once marked by
The splash from each
Other's stones, now
Only grazing the furthest
Edges of each other.

Will you stand close
Beside me again?
Will you remember
The hope we swore
To never forget,
Lost as we were in
Heaven's grace-filled hands?