Yearning

Thoughts;  like passengers in a crowded train, flow without rhyme or reason, yet with solid deliberate intentions, they flow towards an inevitable destination, determined not by conscious construction, but by telepathic waves of senses, inferred from the heart, and forever searching, set adrift upon the ocean of doubt.

Time has always been and always will be, without delay, and without prejudice, since science has no boundaries, and life is so finite, never realizing when the opportunity will present itself, and the beauty of it all can disappear in a ripple of time. One must act, reach, and receive.

Above this all, atop the mountain of fear and self-doubt, there can be viewed, that one truth that I have been seeking since awareness had blessed me. The hardened most inner core of your heart. Not fear but knowledge of selflessness and of love, unexpressed by word, but demonstrated by act and sight, by my boring deep into that portal that cannot mask your soul.

That only eyes can display, naked and free of the inhibitions born unto us all, unable to hide the truth, or those tightly held emotions that you so cautiously and defensively protect, but might they relent in the eyes of the other? Intuitively knowing that those eyes, no not your eyes, they do not lie, they are, for the heart, what cannot be disputed as the voice of your soul .They are the one real thing in sight. They reach out and pull me deep into the core of your emotions.

Past cannot be amended, nor remembered for more that it was, and love once tarnished, cannot be refinished to past glory; but the overture I offer  can produce a symphony of heavenly joy, and our souls once lost, once separate, can then be merged into one life full of joy and rapture.

As I turn and toss, and attempt to deflect the instincts that tease to control me, I suddenly understand that the events that led to this point, this moment, this place, are cosmic, so far beyond the power to resist, and only futile efforts shall reside.
Without intention, with child-like awe, our paths have crossed, and can never be as once before.

Souls, once lost within their own spheres, have found a bond, that neither society nor destiny can deny, and within each other, a touch, not yet felt, a song, not yet sung, a kiss, not yet tasted. Paths that cross, futures not yet known, and love not yet ripened. Until one day when you reach out your hand and take me, take me, take me…