At the lovely night’s end, I asked
When will I see you again?
When she did not respond,
I pressed the point
and she replied,
When the hidden stars converge
or the dates disagree
or justice needs vengeance,
I shall return.

That’s no answer, I said
and she answered
It is what I have to offer
for I am a wanderer
a wayfarer,
a will-o-the-wisp,
and I come and go
like scattered leaves
or blinded rats.
I cannot be expected.

I hoped for more
and said so.
That is not enough!
I cried,
for this time,
it was meaningful,
and I mean to have more of your time
and your memories
and your mind.
I want to see you again,
I said,
and soon.
More! Mine! MORE!

That was the last I saw of her
and that was some days back
but I have hope
that another day shall come
when she’ll see fit to show herself
and then I will know
what I need to know
whatever it is.