The connection we prize, betwixt friendship and love,
more precious than either, the fit like a glove.
Elusive to seek and nebulous when found,
no sudden discovery, a revealing of lives bound.
A sense of arrival of something long sought,
like the missing jig-saw piece long since bought.
The vista of life’s shadow cast into light,
my own wounds you touched, inner turmoil and fight.
Your essence reached out from long hidden time
parallel depths in recognition of mine.
You called out to me, I responded in kind
I cradled your pain for you mine to find.
Suspended by time, the connection a fine thread,
it sways with the seasons to others all but dead.
Poised for nourishment the possibility resides
the strengthening vein the longer it bides.
Two only in my lifetime thus far in time
too precious to waste, oh soulmate of mine!
Painting ‘The Writing Table’ by http://www.rebeccapells.co.uk/