I wrote to you in silver
on the ebony night,
moonbeams my ink.

(The stars
are where my pen
lingers too long.)

My love is woven
with the sun's yellow lace--
pieces of your shadow.

I pressed it into your footprints
with my bare feet.

The future whispered
"retrace them."

And then…
you made the stars fall
so you could write me back.

You wrapped me in your sunshine;
your shadow fit with mine.

And when you came,
you didn't even land
on your footprints

because you were running.

Excellent! Great imagery. You have great talent!