One. Two. One

One. Two. One prose poem

Where the tide line of reality and dreams appear

We stand.

Uncertainty and reassurance walking hand in hand.
Enjoying the kisses of the salty breeze,
at the same time feeding the wind it’s flavour.
Unable to indulge in our creation.
Held back by our unforeseen future,
crippled by our humanity but empowered by the forces between us.

Who are we?

We’ve been made whole
filled by the Spirit, our aesthetics rearranged by the
original author;
because all God needed were his words,
his lips and vocals slow dancing into the darkness;
proclaiming what is his and manifesting his desires.

Who are we?

We are where the sun meets the ocean,
an array of colours but still just one beam of white light.

We are the birds in the sky
the wind fueling their greatness,
their instinctive need to soar,
to leave earthly things and graze the cheeks of beauty.

Who are we?

We are us.

Not two
Not three,
but a trinity being made one by the white light through which our colours shine.

To proclaim love is to proclaim Christ
To experience love is to experience Christ

How can two mortals emulate perfection?

Infinity bursting through the seams of our finity
overflowing through our lips and
making puppets of our limbs.
We don’t.

Our imperfections are made perfect
Making synonyms of our antonym,
our puzzle pieces circumference by jagged edges,
laid close enough.
A field induced by our nearness.

I can only live each letter at a time
unsure of where each will take me
to a word, a paragraph even.
But yet I engrave this page,
the ink to this pen,

me.

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Christopher S. Bunch
Member

Brought tears to my eyes… This is beautiful!

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