O Father of intricate dimension, "grant me a sister I prayed,"
"All in due time young one, all in due time." He said.
But the years rolled on & the horizon
stretched his bones
in his stratospheric bed,
Still my hunger for a younger
affection was never quite fed.
"Father, Father!" One day I called out, "have You forgotten my request?"
"Son, I am appalled & insulted that you'd think I'd think of your request any less."
"Forgive me Father, it just seems to be taking so long."
"Who combs the hair of the oceans & places a glimpse of Heaven in every bird's song?"
So I waited.
All the while, the sun hang up his coat at the close of every day
& the moon bowed her head, old, withering, gray.
Soon Time's old artistic hand began to erase my memories,
& with them went my unanswered request,
It was blown from my mind, white-washed from my soul,
but there is One who never forgets.
The One who tucks the sun in His shirt pocket;
One who the rich winds pay respect.
I will not tell you how my sister came to be
for that is a tale for another time,

I will, however, tell you she stands here besides me
penning these very lines,
A personified proof of love
from One not conducted by Time's familiar chime,
His answer to me from above,
My Valentine.