once, we were the same rain.
we danced across the sky,
seeing the sights as if of lifetimes together.
when we came to earth, this time round,
it was the winter for where we were.
the freeze became a reality fix.
frozen into human forms.
sight was a different intake
from a different locational lens.
we, as icebergs waiting on the blessedness
of life as the thaw.
you went one way, in the trickle-down,
I, another.
these mediums of transition
gave us differences of perspective and appearance.
the stream I traveled, more underground,
different from yours.
you had surface and exposure in the flow.
you, turbulence and sunlight basking.
I may have been inwardly
only water table worthy
yet not very earthbound.
we approach primal
under different interface guidance
yet originally from the same rain.
the subtly of viscosity reigns
yet for each of us,
in somewhat separate ways.
I know how your breath works
to listen to your feelings.
we still talk in silent ways.
it is the invisibles,
on a reality chess board,
with emotional pieces
buried inside each touch as grip.
we persist,
on the same eventual winning side,
not to conquer
but with emotional viscosity in play.
the moving force of mass as representation
has no imagination quite like ours.
the feel of liquids
know genius of motion in many forms.
I know you in an unburdened way,
but not in denial of all that is.
language is slow on the uptake.
presence is multidimensionally faster,
even if only in thought-form
yet multi-realm ways.
we can't escape from timelessness.
we know of each other beyond personage.
the ground I want for you is sky.
for we are still from the same rain
yet disguised now by appearances
and these methods of passage . . .
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