When we were young,
Boys and girls don't always play.
Until we're a little older,
It's a game of love's chase.
Typical of dawn and dusk,
They never happen at the same interval.
Unless you look at it from God's perspective,
Where the time is only one in peripheral.
Even if we rarely see each other,
Like the sun and moon,
After a thousand of falling stars,
We'll cross paths soon.
-----
From children to adults,
From morning to night.
I'll be your lunar love,
And you'll be my moonlight.
If I'd send a rocket to the moon, it will be in the form of a letter.
Maybe we've yet to grow older
and play the game of love's chase.
We've yet to be in the same timezone.
We've yet to cross paths.
Not now, not soon,
But we will, wjh.