Friday, November 22, 1996

Split Apart No More

Our souls got tangled up last night
 I guess I held you too tightly in my dream - sorry.
While I watched you we got more and more entwined, I lost concentration. 
The color of your eyes.  The smell of your perfume.  Can you blame me?
Before I realized it we were hopelessly pretzeled.
I've been plotting a scheme to free my soul from its own grip
I had it all figured
But when I went to write it out I looked down and stopped my pen.
It was your hand - weird.
I rubbed my eyes and looked again - my hand.
I got up to splash water on my face, but when I looked in the mirror
it was your face.
I shook my head and looked again at me looking back at me.
When I sat to contemplate I closed my eyes and saw a revelation -
What I thought had been two entangled souls was one soul joining itself
Then I understood.  My soul is not my soul; nor is yours, well, yours.
They are one and the same - two halves of one whole.
This is why I no longer feel called to wander.
I guess I found what I didn't know I was looking for
and I think you've stopped waiting to take your life off hold.
I wonder how long we've been working toward each other?
We were alone  less than alone, really
Now we're together, we belong.
And we are greater than the sum of our parts.
It feels good to be home again - to be split apart no more.

Tuesday, November 12, 1996

Untitled

This is my soul's favorite time of year
 spring belongs to my heart; summer to the blissful memories of youth;
and fall belongs to the indulgence of my senses.
No, this cold dark season is my favorite
 for even when the sudden chill and fallen leaves create bleak images of death,
I find hope.
I rest in the assurance of my faith.
I revel in the knowledge of the season yet to come
 when my soul sings with Nature's newest children
What has been has been before
 and will be again
All things pass and become new
Every heartache, tear, and private agony will find its resurrection - its rebirth
  of unspeakable glory
For without the harsh winters of our lives
Spring would never be so welcome.
So let the cold winds blow; let the green turn to grey; and instill the lesson once more upon us
that there is so much more yet to come.