You're not a dream. Or, a fantasy. You're a real person. Maybe you're even reading this right now. Though you're relatively young, I know you of old. Each face I've loved has some of your traits--reflections of what is yet to come.
When I'm with you, I walk taller. Better. Faster. Stronger. I feel healthy. Happy. Whole. It's not that you complete me; I am already complete. More like, enhanced around you. Things that slowed down, speed up. I'm young again. And again. And, again.
I don't know if we meet in this lifetime, or the next. But when we do, I will know you. And you will know me. It will happen in an instant. Like a zap of electricity. Or a flash of lightening.
You are purpose. Where the other was healing. And the one before that...productivity. Before that? Just one. Of two. Love for the first. The second served as a gateway. My only chance to grow a soul. It was on my karmic bucket list. As are you.
I burned three years ago. Just as I do now. The light and warmth of my flames attracted him. But it was the sea-goat who came first. Even before the bull. All to announce the twin-fishes. But the lion kept the wardrobe, and subsequently, the witch, too.
This time around, as Saturn turned the corner, instead of a bull, a fish followed the goat. But I'm older, wiser...I now know I don't like the smell of fish after they've left the water. Perhaps a bull will come next? Or, a ram??? My last fish also had a horn. That is part of the goat's portent. Well-horned, horny fish. And, right on cue, the goat returned to me. In the same month at the same time. It is part of our dance. He and me. "Life-long friendship," he calls it. But we both know it was more, once upon another lifetime. How odd it is, knowing the unknowable. Seeing the unseen. Hearing silence.
There is always light in the darkest of night...you just have to look up.
If you could only listen to the trees speak, as I do. They weep for me. With me. Only once, and only by accident, did a wolf issue a challenge. But it was the trees who warned me, telling me to turn my head at just the right moment. That sound. Eerie in the canal. An echo against a big-bellied moon in the dusky sky.
Yes, I expect to meet you soon. That is what the goat always foretells. The goat who thinks me beautiful. The goat who lets me hold his hand like a lover, listens to my secrets like a friend, but...not before telling me a few of his own.
You are unique. Like me. One-of-a-kind.
While two-plus-two will always equal four, one-and-one are never more, never less, than eleven....