There exists within them

A quiet understanding of my world.

They see the concepts

That words don't exist for;

The ones that structure my existence.

They knew from the beginning

That it would take them

A very long time

To learn me.

And yet they still sit here

Connecting me;

Patiently reforming my complexities,

Weaving synapses

Between the things I already know.

Knitting me without a pattern

Because they know I don't have one,

Nor do I have the desire to predict

How they will change me.

They are tethered to me

Not with conversations and interlacing fingers

But despite them,

And instead leaning upon

The intricate language

Of mutual sentience.

Can you write of the ocean if scared you may drown?

Of flights through the sky when you're stuck on the ground?

Of folks and of places you've never been around?

I don't know about you but I do.

Can you write of the past if you're presently now?

Of future though time travel has no way how?

Of school days despite that you've taken your bow?

I don't know about you but I do.

Can you write about villains if you're goody two shoes?

Of happiest endings when you have the blues?

Of triumphs and troubles you've never gone through?

I don't know about you but I do.

Can you write about creatures that no one has known?

Of far-away countries from the warmth of your home?

Of fun times with friends when you've always been alone?

I don't know about you but I do.

Can you write about space if you've never left earth?

Of measures of treasures with your penny's worth?

Of mothers when you have never given birth?

I don't know about you but I do.

Can you write of finding that one Mr. Right?

Of that special someone making you his wife?

Of magical days and romantical nights?

I don't know about you but I do.

And then, I dream... A girl can only dream...

And hope and pray with might,

That someday maybe my words will be true-

But, in the meantime, I write.

hug me and hold me, heart in your hands

fingers intertwined, our toes in the sand

your smile errs leftwards and that seems so right

your eyes shine with laughter even without light

a safe place, a haven, a home on two feet

warm skin on warm skin and i feel complete

my worst critic, best fan, and honest observer

i've come so far now, and with you i'll go further

i think about you in all the little things

i'll face life with you in whatever it brings

we planted a future, nurtured the seed

now i walk through our garden, and it is all that i need.

They say love is a thing of raw power, but so are storms. You stare at the sky and try by force of will to summon a cloud from over the hilltops. Love is that mystery. The force of its creation is beyond mortals.

Then as we go through our daily tasks, with minds full of minuscule matters, there can be a day when the forces of nature conspire and collide. The all powerful electrical storm crackles and strikes. A single lightning bolt splits and strikes two humans directly binding them forever through this lifetime and beyond.

That binding lasts through lifetimes. That intertwining of two souls does not fear the fading of time or the complexities of circumstances.

It is the union written about from the birth of humanity to this day. And, when it happens it needs to be honored, cherished, and exalted because both lightning and true love never strike twice.