For my Angel who writes

Sometimes, in times of despair

your soul will cross the path of another;

although unknown,

it will be as if you are looking in a mirror,

meeting yourself;

their mind seemingly walking through yours,

gathering up your pains and dreams,

and speaking them back to you

as if they have inhabited your body,

feeling its anguish

they express your desires on your behalf

Sometimes, when you feel too tired to go on

a stranger will lift you up, without knowing

what great gift they are bestowing

by merely expressing their own thoughts;

comforting you with an army of words

that resonate so deeply

you feel you are part of them,

a connection so real it can be frightening;

and your greatest fear is that you may drive them away

returning to your isolation

Sometimes, you must merely surrender

to this unknown;

be grateful

for what you dare not understand

nor should you try;

perhaps an Old Soul splits

taking residence in more than one body

it seeks itself,

sending vibrations into the atmosphere

until one piece finds another

and so you meet

Sometimes, you may not know

why or how,

but what you will know

is the fact that it feels right

that you have entered each other’s realm,

sustaining you

when all else was failing;

these are our Angels

in human form

full of quirks, doubts, insecurities, oddities

and love

© Dianne Traynor 

(c) Photography courtesy of David Christian