Someday we will meet, someday very soon
someday when I am wise, but still a hearty fool.
I know that I disgust you, I know that you feel shame,
to know that you once loved me, and now I feel the same.
Someday under the giant oak, that shades over us all,
and bears the fruit of love, yet worries of no fall.
How delightful would it be, to reside in your embrace?
to feel your comely warmth, to see your loving face!
I dream of this and more, without you by my side,
and see you as I look, find you as I hide.
Everywhere I turn, I am reminded of you,
the red branches of autumn, that warm subtle hue,
the soft glowing fire, in the kindling wood so few,
the falling leaves of maple, all the ones I knew,
for everything I feel, I feel for me and you,
like the sleeping grass is drunk, on the morning dew,
and as I hear a budding flower, and its petals strip,
I hope the silence ends, with the parting of your lips.
You can walk amidst the shadows, but I see you far and wide,
that deep blue scarf of yours, with the scarlet by its side.
I dream we sit sincere, before the dying sun,
and make the most of light, before the light is done,
the strands of hair left on my cheek, I pull while weeping late,
and how they fall so languidly, lifeless like my fate.

Someday we must meet, and speak what was unspoken,
make what was not made, mend what was unbroken.
Though you may forget me, I will not forget you,
you were the first I loved, the last, and ever new,
we both gazed at each other, pretending not to care,
concealed within our hearts, that we dreaded to share,
you waited for me, as did I, to let someone be the first,
to taste what is servility, to drink or die from thirst.
For all the sleepless nights, and all the listless days,
all the chasing shadows, all the gathering haze,
I regret not even one, I cherish but all the wake,
and the trance that I was in, for life and livings sake.
When all our youth shall have been wasted, in guilt and recompense
loss shall have been our legacy, and lost shall have been our sense,
to remember what never happened, to recall what never must,
and someday shall we turn, from flesh to lifeless dust.
The world remembers no one, and neither one mans deed,
then why waste our time, for reputes we do not need?
Behold the starlit ocean, and the floating heavens within,
how only the brightest we know, and forget the rest therein,
we live not for remembrance, then why this shame of fate?
give yourself to me my love, let us leave this world of hate!
Care not for words of hatred, we are but mere pariahs,
our sojourn the graves we dig, and this dirt but our messiah,

Someday we shall meet, a day I pray come’s soon,
perhaps an autumn evening, or maybe a summer noon.
You complain, I never knew you, but how can it be true?
for words may surely evade you, if my silence you misconstrue!
I admit we never spoke, and there was naught to share,
but love is more than that, if only you would care,
for the air you breathe is the same as mine, that was how I met you,
the dirt you tread is the path benign, that is how I know you,
the trees you touch and the fruits so fine, that is how I feel you,
the wind you grace to which seasons resign, that is how I greet you,
the drinks you take with lips align, that is how I touch you,
the moon that glows and the sun that shines, that is how I embrace you.
I own you not I set you free, frolic as you may,
but once you return restless, anon and ever stay,
know that I watch over you, care not for what they say,
for they are only mortals, so play my “zenith” play.
But shall you tire of running, from me and from yourself,
shall you find no due refuge, in thoughts of someone else,
look to where the paths diverge, and tread the less walked by,
come to where fields turn to gold, and behold the weeping sky,
red and pink, with tears of the sun, no end or darkness neigh,
come to where the time stands still, and waits for you and I,
but make haste to find the blessed path, for when the day shall run,
away it shall for a thousand moons, and the day shall never come

when among the strangers of this world, to each other we shall owe
a smile though old and wrinkled then, but its meaning we shall know,
“this life is but a passing wind, and we but grains of sand
to where it leads, worlds unknown, but still we grip its hand”.
If all was lost but your embrace, If all was gone but your presence,
know that I would love nonetheless, I have loved you for your essence.
But I feel that I disgrace you, and I know you must feel pain,
to know that “love begets love”, but ours yields nothing to gain,
I promise you no throne, for a kingdom I do not rule,
I promise you not tomorrow, for time is no mans fool,
all I have to give, is the promise of my passion,
an undying one at that, and a will your whims shall fashion.
To you I may be no one, no more than a face in a crowd
but dare not pity me fallen, for that face is hurt but proud,
and the drops of grief that fall below, the drops you may call tears,
are not for you but me, are not for grief but fear,
that I lost my heart to you, and you have no heart to give,
but I fear that I learned long ago, how without a heart to live.
Time may not be on my side, and its grip shall seal my fate,
and to live for love while waiting, is to die from love found late.
Yet I live on weak and aimless, and I wander to find my reason,
then I recall the day I saw you, and how the changing season,
brought the winds of winter, the words of poems and rhymes,
and the one I whisper to myself, which reminds me of my crime,

“That someday we will meet, not someday very soon
when days of wine and roses, shall come when past their bloom”.