Eternity

My thoughts race ahead of me
When I'm coming from your home -
The rice fields I pass, the tea
Shrubs growing wild on the loam,
Become as a blur when I
See them. I would walk slowly,
But it's not to say goobdye
To these; rather, to firmly
Consign memories that may
Arise when we shall pass here.
Then, from the past to a day,
From likes to dislikes, from mere
Gestures or pitch of your voice,
The different tones of your
Face, I'll keep time and rejoice
My feelings forevermore.