Two souls forming together what alone,
would be outside any imagination,
Intimate, entwined sharing of spirit and source,
The rapturous unbridled joy of just being,
Together yet apart, unfulfilled, incomplete, and yet,
To reach that somehow seemingly unreachable union,
Remains outside our grasp.
Oh, for changes in the past.
Of dreams of “things different” and their advancement to reality,
Of pain un-endured, raptures unimagined, time un-lost,
Of the paintings passing through my mind,
Whispers of what could be, what must be, what cannot,
And perhaps longed for such a time,
As only lost forever in the caverns of self-doubt.
Future bleak and insatiable,
And yet again hope intercedes into dream,
And the great longing consumes all of heart and soul,
Still the dreams of completeness flow,
Happiness reached, loneliness consumed,
And the journey back to the source as yet unfinished,
So the time is yet fluid, and future unset.
We still can be……
Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre November 16th, 2005