To Aycan

Unmet, unknown, unspoken,
Before the thunder broke the sky,
Until the fearful path was chosen,
To find the poetry in life.

The wind stroked the trees with subtleness,
And painted the ground with leaves,
Holding the image motionless,
Submitting us to its decree.

Time stole from us reverberation
From the crash of our nights,
And left us with the stark sensation
That constancy comes back.

Yet, the distance won't lead to falter,
For the space deceives the eye,
And, while seizing seems to be farther,
Expectancy remains alive.