There are infinite numbers of me

Running, existing, dreaming

Upon the predestined fabric of time

Yet there is only one of you

Of which

I seem to be fated

To gaze upon

Love helplessly

Never possess

And eventually

Lose completely


And lose you I did

What I never had


Yet the love itself

Was never lost


It was just always

There


Faithful as a child

Running wild and free


A distant

And endless green

Pasture


Praising

Chasing

Flower after flower


Without ever so much

As a touch


For fear of its withering


But mostly

Because it ever

Eludes me


Yet

How can I be

Forever everywhere


Except

Where you are to be?


There are infinite numbers of you

Running, existing, dreaming

Upon the everlasting Pasture

Of Love


Yet

There is only one of me


In time and in space

I might have passed you

Regretfully


But in Love

I believe

We're still destined

To meet

And

To be