Peering through a old stone gate,
its face well carved, in prayers attired,
I saw a golden wall of late
before which stood cracked streetlamps retired,
their warming light now long gone
yet they still glow stubbornly on

Sometimes I find myself ahead
Others I fall behind

Sometimes I love to read
Others I rest my eyes

Sometimes I watch anime
Others I'm on Disney+

Sometimes I watch old movies
Others I watch Owl House

Sometimes I want to be an adult
Others I find I'm still a kid

Sometimes I rush to grow up
Others I want to be Peter Pan

Sometimes the world spins too fast
Others it feels too slow

Sometimes I keep a schedule
Others I go with the flow

Let go of the weight,
You stand stronger on your own,
Nothing but clear skies.

Invariably,
You prefer to come
To me in the dark.
"You're more my temperature then,"
You once said.
I'm not much of a thermometer,
But I am the eurythmy
To each syllable you give
In such settled shadow.
A play of murmurs and fingertips,
You once named this.
Always I see a wreath in your hair,
In colors of Persia,
Textures of night,
And the soft blended lines
Of you I know
Infallibly.