like a glass kept at a wrong place,
in a million little pieces
flung across the sky when stars are gay.
like a stream running downhill,
when I can’t control
thunder and lightening that strikes at an hour unknown.
like a father for its newborn child,
pacing up and down the floor
for you to say the things that the heart has always known.
like a child for a miracle,
with my fingers crossed and eyes shut
that you and I go will last the whole way.