Once, perhaps sixty months ago,
I took a journey
to the farthest lands of earth,
There to deliver lectures
of an esoteric kind on science and the ways of God
To those inclined to listen, and some not.
Twenty hours of flights ended in bumpy landings
on what seemed a field
named after two
of Scotland's finest own.
There, among crowds of faces
most unknown
and some from former years,
I met a gaze that I had never seen before, yet always known.
When, after numerous delays, and strident criticisms of what I had said,
we took a stroll beneath the sparkling stars
Some deeper sense of harmony arose than mere agreement,
though drawing back from touch of kiss
Lest it should meld forever
the two souls that met beyond those lips.
Now, after years
half-heartedly pretending that the kiss could be undone,
That absence, or as great a space as world permits could sunder them, they meet again,
And not just lips, but hearts and minds and souls acknowledge that that ancient kiss can never be undone.
And they are reconciled.
And one.
by John Charles Puddefoot
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