Paths

by Maher

Make me a walkway that only leads to you;
no brickwork or mortar - just earth and digging spoons.
Tread upon the dust that taints the sky with red:
behind my back it settles where all the stones lay dead.
Kiss the streams, my sweetheart, where oceans cry in blue:
a stroll that ends in waves; a path that ends too soon.
I tricked the sun to suffer the coldness of the moon -
we walked the road together: they left the road with you.