A poem:
Have you ever felt like you’ve known someone before you know them?
A recognition, perhaps? A kindred knowing? A rendezvous within the eyes?
It’s a sixth sense of sorts, a soul’s memory of encounters past.
I don’t know exactly how to describe it, and yet I do know.
It’s an impression, a bond born amongst the stars.
It’s a spark kindled by sight, a lunar awakening of two journeys entwined.
I know little of what’s been before, only that it has been.
And I know not of where it will take me now, if anywhere at all.
Yet, I revere the meeting.
It tickles me and frightens me amongst a veil of comfort, because I know those eyes.
I remember their celestial being.
I feel their healing ways, their softening of my heart and the awe of their brown awareness.
It’s like coming home.
Flying through a spotted sky, floating in a maze of yellow flowers.
And so, beyond the mask, beyond my pierced soul, I have but one golden aspiration, an eternal wish.
I hope wherever those eyes land in this space and time, if not before me, they land in a garden of serenity.
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Author: Rochelle Smith
Image by Aperture Vintage on Unsplash
