Monday, December 26, 2011

whatever souls are made of, hers and mine are the same

Two fair maidens
in a mysterious wood;
seeking wonder,
finding good.
We lose ourselves
in the expanse of grace,
we find each other
in a silent place.
We watch the sunrise,
we kiss the sky
in its wet reflection
where fishes fly.
You on your horse,
and me with my rhyme,
then we switch places
and lose track of the time.
Sisters bound with the bond
that cannot be broken;
friends for eternity,
where perfect love is spoken.
And in a hundred years,
when our love is still aflame,
whatever souls are made of,
yours and mine are still the same.