His montage

He rode across the high and low
Painting his montage, so free
Twinkle, the sky above
And surpassing the usual gleam
He felt, he knew the touch so well
Embracing the power to be
The less face that was put up
Was too superficial not to see
With silent steps and lowered eyes
She passed him once, unnoticed
And then again an eon later
He saw, he knew that touch so well
This time he would not let her go
This time he ruled his destiny
He waited too long
He waited too far
This time he knew it was meant to be.