We are lost souls.
Finding comfort with the common ground
Of being lost
Would we find our way back?
Would we even find the right way?
Or have we already found it
When our lost souls collided?
Are we still lost
Now that we found each other?
‘You just love that word, don’t you?’
‘What word?’ I ask as I pulled the pen up
From your skin
But my hand lingers
You smile. *‘Lost. You like the idea of lost.’
I also like the idea of you
Sitting thisclose to me as I
Scribble on your skin
But ‘It looks appealing.’ I shrug
‘Not having any idea where you’re heading to is appealing?’
I explain that being lost
Is not always worrying about
Having no sense where you’re going,
It’s also letting go to see
What could be path could be lying
Ahead of you and thinking
Whether you’ll go or stay or
Look for another way
‘Like the road not taken?’
‘Or somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond.’
You grabbed the pen from me
And held my hand in place
My heart tries its best not to burst.
It’s not our souls that are lost
But our fragments, it scattered
Throughout places and our souls—
Our souls are bound to find it
So if my missing piece
Falls in you and yours in me,
We are bound to collide,
Bound to see and realize that we
Are not as lost as we ought to be.
Oh but I am still lost, I thought,
Lost in you.
Road Not Taken--Robert Frost
Somewhere I Have Never Travelled, Gladly Beyond--e.e.cummings
