On the grass where we lay our heads together,
Has the tireless singing ever stayed?
The wind lifted between my stumbling steps,
Has it ever stirred the never-ending waves?
Yes, I have,
Held you in the palm of my hand,
Following you as you were the catkins of a dandelion.
When I was fourteen, as if nothing had changed.
Back then, for a time immortal,
As our faces turn to the blue sky,
Our hands rest under our resting heads.
Till now, the flowers are still blooming,
And the tides kept surging.

Photo by Vangelis Kovu on Unsplash