If in a corner of time, that dances with possibility

If in a corner of time, that dances with possibility, Our solitudes were to cross paths, both yours and mine, I would bury the compass that seeks you, in extinct pursuit, And nestle into the secret of your solitude, like a sacred hidden from all. I would become oblivion, in the shrine of past noons, And you’d turn into an echo, in the carousel of eternity, sucked from memory. We’d part not as rebels but as stars choosing a new galaxy, Just for the prey of the unknown to return unto itself, unto the essence akin to the philosopher’s stone. I’d embrace my longing to see it yearn for your dawn, Igniting torches in the night of doubt, trying to cast my hopes as bundles of light. Until they’d sketch a pathway, in crimson and zephyr, leading to where our hearts are moored. And if, in the end, worlds were overturned, and we’d meet, Our solitudes, like two old comrades, would recognize and befriend each other. Arm in arm they’d sit, in a concealed covenant, Watching us—together—with veiled envy, yet eyes sparkling with joy for their shared fate. Intermingled, as in the forest of dreams, they would hide among the foliage, Never completely gone, but always awaiting the moment of restoration. They would accompany us, gentle shadows, on the winding road covered in petals, Rejoicing in their finding each other, yet abandoned in our embrace. Their masks, turned inside out, would remain hollow, witnesses to the eternity from which we break away, While we revive each legend and blade of grass with our footsteps marked by dreams. Our companion solitudes, under the cryptic shawl of scattered stars, Would follow us, whispering old songs of gratitude, for through us, they found themselves again.