I Trod In Her Wake

Her gaze on me

puts a stop in my step.

Warm, pure, dark—

none can ever be like her.

Her home is far from mine,

so I come to her each time.

Like a lost soul

led by a beam in the dark,

I trod in her wake.

Many love her,

but not like I do.

From the age of four,

my feet have led me to her.

She's seen me cry, seen me grin;

seen me fall, seen me win.

She has seen me

in each form that I own.

Thus I trod in her wake,

my gaze to the sky;

for the sky is her home

each time the sun sets

to give her a spot

in the dark over us.