A thousand lives later,

here we are again

separated by the blue veil between dimensions

touching only on the translucent side of dreams.

 

Through the ages,

I have whirled with dervish mystics;

I have drunk the blood of Christ;

I have even pillaged with pirates,

but no passion has filled me

like you.

 

I want to be reborn where you are;

I implore you,

where will you be?

I’ll meet you there.

I’ll meet you in the Renaissance;

I’ll meet you post-Armageddon.

 

I’ll meet you in a still lake’s reflection,

in the eyes of a child,

in the quiet of a frozen landscape,

in the light of a ghost star,

or at the tip of a poet’s pen.

 

I’ll meet you on a battlefield,

in the echo of a scream,

in Dante’s infernal thoughts,

or on the seventh terrace of purgatory

where I will gladly burn to ashes

that I might feel you again.

 

Matters not whether we’re thieves or clergy;

Matters not whether we’re one or two,

or fragrant racemes of the same vine –

our awareness shall transcend any state of being.

 

If only we can cross this cosmic threshold,

we will find one another –

be drawn unto each other

in a Divine reunion

driven from within.

 

And the Universe itself will sigh.

 

© 2008