Letter to Love Lost

When first we met you knew who I was, though we had never met before. I knew who you were though we had never touched. We knew each other, not the where or the what, but we knew each other. Two parts of the same puzzle, missing from each other for so long. Chapters of the same book, written seperately, together become complete. Lives seperate, spirits linked one to the other, not know till words did touch. Spirits linked yet free.

A love that didn't just happen, one that always has been, sleeping gentley, hidden deep, safely protected and guarded, long waiting to be found, now awakened and unbound. Love just being, a love fully grown, it had no beginning it has no end. Love without boundry a love without walls.

It is said for each there is one perfect other, just waiting to be found. The words have been written, forever on my heart, the words have been spoken, given voice and sound, and now no matter what may happen, by these words I am bound.

I Love you Kat

There you stood looking out from the edge of the wood. Are you a woman? Are you a child? I not sure of either in my fleeting glimpse of you, of one thing I am sure, your beauty is ageless, shifting with the light and mood. You wore a crown of oak leaves; a dress of green to match your eyes, hair rust red curls tumbling to your shoulders. Slight of frame, short of stature, untamed and yet regal with the presence of a queen, you did touch my heart and spirit. Your green eyes did glitter with hidden thoughts, love and a wildness not deeply hidden. Your lips wondrous in smile or laugh, terrible in anger, and heart deadening in sadness or hurt.

Child of forest, child of light
Winter's sunshine, summer's delight
Soul of love, spirit of flight
Springs new dreaming, autumn's fires bright

Who are you my sweet woman child? Who are you my love? You who were born to life's mysteries, born to the beginning of things, shall be here for the end of them. Part of the past, looking now through the eyes of the present, peering forward for brief moments into the future. Sharing brief visions of what once was, with what is, and what shall be.

I see you staring out from the edge of the wood, as I walk the path life has taken me, the path my feet lead me on, I see you standing there, I am not sure, not knowing if you see me in turn. I am the watcher, the scribe I observe and record, not part of what I see, standing to the side looking on. As you, I have been here since the beginning, will be here at the end, but unlike you I have no existence in the present only in the past and future of things. I walk the world of dreams, touch things in the spirit; I do not exist for reality only it's past and future.

Where are you my sweet woman child? Where are you my love? Where have you gone? You that have touched my heart and spirit so deeply that you became my heart. Your spirit is a beacon lighting the bleak endless days of my existence, gently touching me and the world forever with your warmth, and love, in all of what I do, I seek only to exchange my touch with yours.

I was here when men first gave the old gods their names, and when the old gods gave you life and form. I have walked and watched as men forgot the old gods made new ones and gave them names, and repeated the cycle thru the ages, and through all that time you have been there with me and yet we knew each other not. I knew you existed but nothing more, as our paths crossed only the once and then only briefly as I was witness to your making and naming, so many ages have passed that the name can not be spoken as the language of the name has been long forgotten, as I no longer wear the form I was born with, that form passed to legend with the history of another age, a age that exist now only as half forgotten myth.

Now once more our paths do cross, yet do they flow together this time or do we meet just to part again to meet at some future time in another life. How many life times do our lives contain? How many others shall we each touch in our own way, before we can touch each other's lives with our own. How many stories will we hear, see and write before we can learn from each other the stories of our lives. Let the words reach out across the time and space of our existence and touch, to touch us to the depths of our souls and breath of our spirits

I sit here and write these pages of words not knowing where they come from, not knowing how they will be taken if ever read. The words on these pages are not planned; they just seemed to come forth, to flow from the tips of my fingers as I sat here at the computer. I had intentions of writing a story yet somehow the words twisted to the form they now take, fantasy and reality blended into a strange sort of love letter it seems.

I never knew that when I first met you that my mind and thoughts would take these turns when I think of you. I did know there was something there that was more than we both knew, though now after these past few weeks of your absence I no longer know what you feel for me, just what I feel for you and how much I miss you when I take pause to let my feelings catch up to me, I try to hide from them most of the time keeping myself busy with other things. I have spent hours sorting music files on the computer, still over a thousand files to sort. The biggest trouble with sorting the music files is when I have to listen to them to make sure they are complete, then I hear songs that make my thoughts turn to you, hell even some of the titles alone make me think of you. Some of the music is just a pain to listen through and others hit me like I'd been clubbed. It might be the music I like, the songs that touch my spirit, Gordon Lightfoot, Cat Stevens, Harry Chapin, Simon & Garfunkel, Paul Simon, and Jim Croce to name a few, those singers are for thinking and make me think of too many things.

I haven't listened to much music in years, maybe I should stop, it does strange things to my state of mind, I hear such beauty in the words and in the melody, the same music can make me laugh or cry, I hear the stories they tell.

Excuse me if I rambled on, I don't know if and when you will ever see this letter so I am just writing things as I feel them no order or reason behind the words just feelings and random thoughts.

Lately I have been trying to write, and thus I started this. I figured I would try and add to the pages I have written over the years and maybe come up with something long enough to publish. Well so far not much luck, maybe I can takes some parts of this letter and use them to add to the collection but the thread is even hard for me to follow. I want to add Internet shorthand to the things I write, but it doesn't seem appropriate to add smiley faces and laughs out loud to things I write hopefully for people to read some day, too many years online too much chatting breeding bad writing habits

I am learning a lot by writing also, well at least when I am using this word processing program, run the spell checker and grammar checker and ten have to fight with it to get it to phrase the words the way I want it to and still get the words in to conform to the rules it tries to impose on me. That can be quite a battle at times, how do I outsmart the system this time? Most the time it only takes a few tries other times it takes forever to figure out what the damn rule wants.

You never did know me, all you knew is i scared you, and now it seems you never will know me, yet I know you.