From chaos’ forge, where light first learned to sing,
Two sparks were born amid the primal flame—
One molten gold, the other silver’s gleam,
Twin essences the stars would later name.
Through eons spun they drifted, separate streams,
Yet gravity of longing pulled them near:
In Sumer’s dust she wore a crown of dreams,
In Renaissance he carved her name in air.
A fisherman’s wife on storm-lashed Irish stone,
A poet’s muse beneath Kyoto’s moon—
Each life a thread, yet never quite their own,
Till every parting carved the heart’s own rune.
Now gold and silver fuse in single fire,
One soul, one breath, one love that will not tire.
by Luck and Katrina
Leave a Reply