It feels like God who watches from the clouds,
To look at distant mountains and tall towers,
The blue and violet of the spectrum scattered;
Which stand so blue in the summer drizzle.
We have fitted together two broken halves,
Watching the sunrises and sunsets together,
With limbs, run and coil against each other
Strengths and foibles of two separate lives.
We have picked up a few purple clovers,
To divine what the future has in store for us,
Colours that run amok in twilight dreams,
Of a full spectrum scattered in an afterglow.
When a pale sun sets along its blue horizon,
May it have love that’s like halves fitted again.