Gracious edges,

kismet starts,

meek to bleak,

without a heart.

Sitting once under,

a shady tree,

waiting for the day,

you and me.

Simply a dream,

obtuse observations,

twelve allocations,

and I saw your footprints,

right behind me.

You must’ve vanished.

Then I heard you call,

the faint whisper,

of the veil lifted.

A glimpse,

what is to be,

has already happened,

many times before.