SUBLIME

 SUBLIME

I cannot help but drift, weightless, into the wonder,

The quiet ache of what might have been.

Where would we be, my heart asks,

If fate hadn’t conspired, hadn’t spun its delicate thread,

Weaving us together on that first, fragile date?  Our paths crossed like sidewalks kissed by rain,

A fleeting intersection of chance and time’s good grace.

By some cosmic whim, your shadow fell across mine,

And in that moment, the world tilted, softly, into place.

But what if the stars had blinked differently?

What if the script of our love had been penned another way?  Would I still be here, tethered to your side,

Bathed in the glow of your presence,

Lit up like a string of Christmas lights,

Twinkling in the deep, unshakable pull of love?

Would my heart still race, reckless and wild,

Caught in the undertow of your gaze?  Those green eyes—oh, they unravel me still,

A forest of secrets where I stumble, clumsy and unguarded.

If we’d met under a different sky,

In some other city, some other season,

Would you have turned, given me that second glance?

Would your smile have found me,

Soft as moonlight, sharp as destiny?  What if the coffee shop had been closed that day,

Or the rain hadn’t driven us to share that fleeting shelter?

What if the crowded street had swept us apart,

Two strangers dissolving into the city’s hum?

Would my soul still know yours,

Like a melody half-remembered, humming in my bones?  Yet here we are, against all odds,

Two hearts stitched together by time’s tender hand.

I trace the lines of your laughter,

The quiet weight of your hand in mine,

And I wonder at the miracle of us—

How a single moment, a chance collision,

Could bloom into this love,

Fierce and uncontainable,

Like wildfire racing through a starless night.  So I drift, and I wonder, and I fall,

Over and over, into the endless green of your eyes.

No matter the script, no matter the stage,

I’d find you, I think, in a thousand different lives.

For you are my wonder, my what-if, my always—