by Luis G. Dato

I sought you always in the world’s wide places,
In piers and places, the roaring street,
Where the world’s pilgrims worn with aching feet,
Seek as I sought you mid strange, unknown faces.
Albeit I found you not, but only traces
Of where you passed, a memory vague and sweet,
And in despair knew that if we should meet,
It would not be this earth our sun embraces.

I sought you in the fragrance strange of roses,
In the elusive phantom of a dream,
Through fiery portals where day has its closes,
In subtle light of stars and things that seem —
You’re ever elsewhere like a fancy flown,
Till suddenly we find ourselves alone.

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