Maria's untitled poem is about longing and the fear of what comes next. The speaker is searching for someone's presence, though the poem never says who this person is or whether they are gone. Everything happens under a dark night sky, and the stars touching the speaker suggest a moment of quiet beauty. All the speaker wants is to stay there.
Then the poem looks both backward and forward. The "comfort of our beginning" feels warm and safe, while the end waits "further ahead." The speaker wonders whether that end will be as dark as the night sky, which links the darkness of the opening to fear of the future. In the last stanza, the speaker tries to calm themselves with the line "Tomorrow counts for its own," meaning each day should be taken as it comes. But the doubt creeps back in. The poem closes on a question about how tomorrow will end, so the worry is never settled. The mood is gentle, wistful, and uneasy.