…had I known to hold, had I had arms and hands,
I would have used all their strength, my strength,
to hold on to you, that we could have entered
this world together, albeit from separate wombs,
that we would know then what we know now,
that there is no one else for you or me, there is
no other essence which can resonate with our soul,
the way that yours and mine have found,
that we would’ve known to search from the first moment
we learned what it is to search…
…had I known, perhaps even with my first words, your name,
that there was a you here, as there had been
before memory and flesh and bone, had I the ability to remember
before neurons and synapses, before breath
and the beat behind pulsing arteries; had I known
before my first sound as I entered this space, this world,
I would have kept your name on my lips
that they would whisper with each breath for you,
the way that with each beat my soul has been calling
to yours from the first action of my being, here…
…had time been aware of the distance between us,
had it any concern for the stories written in its passages,
and were it anything more than an indifferent measure,
perhaps it would have slowed long enough
that before we set the path then, the same
which kept us from each other for so long,
we might have heard the beat before the pulse
and the whisper in each chamber calling out,
we might have in time’s lapse, stilled long enough
to find the miracle we’ve only just found, together…
…had the construct of men for hope, at some point
become real, demonstrating a concern for man,
concerning itself with more than idle worship of self,
had the congregations of hope experienced more
than the call to continue believing that all good
comes from one source, and all that is needed is faith,
then perhaps this divine illusion made manifest
might have spoken into the whispers and silenced
the cacophony of doubt that clouded the path,
keeping us from the faith needed to close our eyes
to hear and follow the beating of our heart…