Familiar..

so very are we
and I pray that never I look past
the balmy waters of your gaze
settling in me smoothing ripples
where mud was stirred

or the glyphs
that write themselves
across your brow
welling up
from your Ancient of Days soul
unraveling mysteries
in exalted colors
devotions
from your secret church
each majestic flourish
opening a door
that somehow before
I did not see

because we know each other
and the brush of your hand
paints a memory in me

Is there a distinction between them
yours and mine
the sinews that thread the blood
that binds

us

pulsing a palette of eternity
in every throb
assuring our eyes
shall not grow blind
knitting ease into dullness
and the colors
no longer shine