It was late at night, the stars shining bright,
In the clear, endless sky, such a marvelous sight.
The end of summer had come, fall's first leaves in the air,
With a gentle breeze playing, a scene beyond compare.
By the moonlit sea, where waves softly glide,
Poppy and Branch sat side by side.
Their talk was light, but a question soon came,
From Poppy's lips, like a flickering flame.
"Hey, Branch," she said, her voice full of grace,
"Do you think in each universe, we share the same space?"
Branch looked at the moon, his thoughts went afar,
To celestial pairs and how they are.
He pondered the sun and the moon up above,
Two distant entities, separated but loved.
The sun starts the day with its golden embrace,
While the moon brings the night, leaving stars in its place.
Though they light the sky, they never can meet,
Their paths forever apart, in a cosmic retreat.
Then he thought of the bee and the flower's brief dance,
The bee helps the flower, then flies off by chance.
Their roles are entwined, yet always apart,
A fleeting connection, like a work of art.
The moon's gentle pull guides the ocean's deep tides,
Yet their meeting's a mystery where separation abides.
The wind lifts the kite on an invisible thread,
But kite and wind part ways when the day has fled.
The river cascades down from the mountain's high crest,
Shaping the land and giving life its best.
The mountain stands firm, a guardian tall,
Yet the river's flow and mountain's stance don't blend at all.
A reader brings life to a book's quiet pages,
Imagination sparks across countless stages.
The book holds its story, though it stays still,
Its words come alive by the reader's will.
Sunlight creates shadows with shapes it defines,
Yet sunlight and shadows remain separate lines.
The painter and canvas work together in art,
Yet the canvas and painter are distinct from the start.
The clock marks time, tick-tock every day,
Yet time flows freely, never to stay.
The musician and instrument, a duet so fine,
But the music and player, still distinct in design.
The star's distant glow reaches Earth's keen eye,
Through a telescope's lens, though they never meet sky.
The gardener tends to the blooms that arise,
Yet the garden grows apart under watchful eyes.
The sailor explores the vast, open sea,
Guided by currents, yet they stay free.
The poet's words dance, their meanings so bright,
Yet the poet and words never truly unite.
As Branch thought of these pairs that never combine,
He pondered if unity could still be aligned.
What if the sun and moon shared an eternal embrace,
Blending their lights in a twilight space?
What if the bee and flower were always in bloom,
In a cycle eternal, no time for gloom?
Could the moon and ocean merge as one endless tide,
With waves and light forever side by side?
The kite and wind might be in perpetual flight,
Soaring together, forever in light.
The river and mountain could be an endless scene,
Flowing and standing as a single dream.
The reader and book in an infinite lore,
With stories and imagination evermore.
Sunlight and shadow might blend and entwine,
Creating a dance that's forever divine.
The painter and canvas as one artful whole,
With colors and strokes merging, no roles to unroll.
The clock and time could be seamlessly aligned,
Marking the moments in a rhythm combined.
The musician and instrument could play a tune,
Together forever, in a melodious swoon.
The star and telescope might never truly meet,
Yet their connection reveals something sweet.
The gardener and garden might always stay,
In an eternal growth, where care leads the way.
The sailor and sea could be forever in sync,
Navigating together without missing a blink.
The poet and words could be an endless rhyme,
With verses and meanings beyond space and time.
Branch saw that though they never seemed to blend,
Imagining their unity might not be the end.
In each separate role, a harmony might be,
A connection through time and space, though hard to see.
"So maybe they are," Branch said with a sigh.
"Or maybe they aren't," he added, letting out a cry.
"But here we are," Poppy softly agreed,
Holding onto hope as they both took heed.
"I hope so," Branch whispered, his voice full of grace.
"Me too," Poppy smiled, looking into his face.
"You complete me, and I see no reason why,
That shouldn't be true, beyond the sky."
"Really?" Poppy asked, her heart full of cheer.
"I think so," Branch said, drawing her near.
Maybe that's all it is, a simple thought,
A faith in the togetherness that eases the mind. It's all I've got.
belief.
