I see compassion in your eyes,
ghostly man,
yet you and I have not
shared a word
and yet we know each others hearts
perfectly
without regret.
But who are you?
I feel our meeting shall come soon
something is about to give birth
the tree's are still
in hurricane winds
with anticipation . . .

I dream of you, bathed in blue
compasses your hands, so that
the four corners of your heart
I shall never
be lost in.