Three Strange Angels

the sum of we

you and me
we fall into slipstream
fields of possibility
where we are neither
ourselves
(bound by blood)

for too long
I hung on
tightly
pulling umbilicals
as if I could hold
you
who could hold
you?

then I flew kites
learned
reeling in
letting go

surrendering forever
to the beyond
between
life and death
you and me
we are one
and then some
we are two
one of the few
who make three
that trinity where
we are everything
and nothing
together
or apart
we are.

we are.

(For Kyle).

One small single truth

We are born alone. We die alone. Why then do we spend much of our lives seeking union with the other? Is it to emulate the spark of creation? A fusion of binary polarties that for the briefest moment recreates a heaven for travelers far away from home. Born of the product of lovemaking, do we intuitively migrate toward the point of origin? Is it that we fall from oneness into twoness. Fragmented from unity into solitude, and so seek return to that state of familial solidarity? People believe in twin souls or soul mates or an original separation. For them is the need is seeded by longing? There are those who say we begin to create our true definition by breaking our parental mirror to redefine ourselves through the image projected by our lovers' eyes. For them does relation help craft identity? In indigenous lore seeking our antithesis simply means following the path of the original story. Emulating the birth of the cosmos again and again as yin meets yang. Or perhaps when we are truly alone we face the startling truth. We are borne of nothing, and die only to return to nothing. An emptiness so overwhelming that once alienated from it, we grasp onto anyone to avoid going back. For me the truth is this. We are borne of one into two, the sum of which makes three. A trinity of doing, saying and being that makes us more and less than we already are.