All our yesterdays will gather where
The next tomorrow anticipates
Till the count of twenty
Pleased to make tomorrow wait
Stars the fog feathers asleep
The sun pecks at the morn
Stills the count at twenty
That the breeze adorns
The forest murmurs long and sighs
The meadows sweep afar
Toll the count of twenty
The echo chimes au revoir
Two paths weave near and wander
Draw a destiny each
Then on the final twenty
Dry pens such lessons teach
Although more research is needed to grasp the full effect of oxytocin on our species, it is well-know as the bonding hormone. Although the back story of this poem deserves telling, it hasn't been written to any satisfaction. In time.