Two souls touching, tasting one another for the first time. 

In years, centuries, eons, or minutes they are unsure.  What soul can
speak of time, what soul can grasp the meaning of a second or a 
month?  

In their eagerness to find one another, the souls take on flesh.  
Flesh for flesh's sake is mere foolishness; flesh for the sake of the
Spirit makes these things real.  

They rush, one to the other, longing, searching, praying for the 
Moment of reunion; a single Moment of recognition would content the 
two.  Lives lived and shared, pains endured, contentments missed, 
bodies felt, all in the space of time that has no measure.  

Love come and gone cannot stop the wanting.  

Peace sought and found cannot ease the yearning.  

Anguish fought and conquered cannot end the needing.


Two souls meeting, folding into each other to time's end.  
It is for this I long.