I bought an antique onyx ring                                                             ­            and something about it was beguiling                                                         from every inch of the etching                                                          ­       inlaid in its tarnished filigree                                                         ­                      It beckoned and kind of lured me                                                           holding me captive with its beauty                                                          As  soon as I held it in my hand                                                             ­        my  mind slowed down like falling sand                                                   surrounding  me  in  a dream like state                                                           I  saw the  previous owner, I saw her face                                               Within those few seconds for me                                            a  woman's  voice said, this was meant to be                                            That  I didn't pick it accidently                                                       ­              but  had always been a part of me                                                              I  looked inside and saw so clearly                                                          ­  my  initials engraved so mysteriously