Moved by a memory of yearnings begun long ago;

Actions all hopeless back then, I was too young to know;

Retrospect fills my mind now, with a subsequent scan;

Geared to look deeper than days when I gave up and ran.

Artistic handwriting lives in an old Christmas card.

Reading those words anew catches me fully off guard.

Even today, I could not know for sure what they mean.

That throws new light on what played out in many a scene.

By and by, other old cards, on which she once would write,

Leave me with thoughts that I missed something there in plain sight.

After so long of assuming it just wasn't fate,

Could she be someone whom I'd find a way to locate?

Kissing comes second to knowing her heart's hidden state.