Strong waters weep
& pull plains into valleys.
Grey skies pooling in the lane.

Strange fungus sprouts
over an eager head
and delight splashes from dancing toes.

Damp airs paint brighter hues
before our eyes
and gleaming we proclaim

There's nothing like a rain sustaining
to remind us
how th'roughly we are streaked with art.

Their existence was
an improbability.
an extravagance of fortune.

They were
spider-woven
and fragile--
each breath pulsing them
closer to oblivion.

Nothing about them
was built to last.
In the blinding imminence
of destruction

they were ******* beautiful.

They were two minds
in contention.
Spinning--always slightly
out of sync.

But they freed themselves
from the constant clashing.
Orbiting at each's own volition.  

As they explored
these different frequencies,
their thoughts became gusts
of unrelenting wind,
spanning silently
the chasm
of their own creation.

So,
without touching
or even knowing,
each shaped the other.
Eroding and weathering
until all that was left
were two hopes coursing
in near harmony.

Good evening, all!
Friendly reminder that--unless called upon--
we ask all spirits to remain on mute.
The connection can be a little spotty,
but we want to see all we can as the veil thins,
so please keep your third eye open
until it’s your time to commune.
Thank you again for attending this evening of digital divination.

Oh, and feel free to put your deepest, darkest questions in the chat box.
The moderator/medium will address them in turn.