Recurrence

I held her hand from a distance that was as close in time as the heart to the beat The raw beauty of her intentions caused silence to blossom as a field of flowers I saw the purity between her eyes vexed by the path of transient lovers And I wanted more than anything to bandage her scars as she had for me So I told her, "I'll meet you where the trees whisper with the breeze And cure you, in the darkest places the world has made you bleed." Her eyes illuminated like midnights twinkling stars As she smiled and softly whispered, "Tell me more." So I composed a poem entitled Love: Love Is timeless Like eternity A moment Worth Remembering A chance To take Your breath away You are worthy. . . To be Loved In this moment silence replaced all need of words Their eyes met, hearts beating as one, and their souls kissed And by the chisel of creation's scribe imprinted upon them They knew they had met before In the vastness of eternity's timeless past He loved her so electrically. He would play with her, saying, "I know we were pulled apart at the source, when darkness was penetrated by light; only to strive towards one another afresh, with each revival of mortal bones." But in his heart, he embraced the truth, that whatever truth may truly decipher, it would leave him in ceaseless, ever evolving, expressions of exaltation. It was her. Everything was her. The Universe. Her. His very spirit seemed as though driven, as if pulling him even, always towards her.