Someday we'll meet where the seam is now torn,
along the embossed, the perforation, the stitch of 
time and place when the sun and sky align just so

How wonderful that there is another who holds
the memory of the same moment, to affirm that it
and we did occur to witness

What we hold is dear, the light, sounds,
scent, and the touch of the whole, without you
I cannot be certain that what is within me is true

The mind plays more games than the heart, 
which bets large sums more rarely, despite
good fortune in small wagers along the way

Our cobbled stories are alike, they breathe
both sides, bellows to kindle flames, dying embers
pulse for air, revived, satisfied

In the darkness are vivid colors, more muted
when seen from afar, up close those grow and glow,
unveil themselves in the sweep of the surround

We are mosaic, we are stained glass, 
the prism effect of time shined through life,
the sum of fine incomprehensible movement

A latticework of delicate gears,
balanced chemistry,
ancient formulae

cc: CC '22