Recognition

Or... have I met you before?

Photo by Won Young Park on Unsplash

We kept crossing paths, near misses and almosts, when all I ever wanted was for us to collide.

Jessica Katoff

Two travelers
    on the spiral staircase
        of forever—
            meeting at the landing
                of this century,
                    that decade,
                        some Tuesday
                            in April.

*Destiny*:
    the thread
        that weaves itself
            through the loom
                of accident.

One knows
    the pattern,
        sees the golden thread
            connecting
                stranger to lover
                    to enemy
                        to friend—
                            the same face
                                wearing different masks
                                    across lifetimes.

The other
    feels only
        the inexplicable pull,
            the déjà vu
                of a voice
                    never heard before
                        but recognized
                            in the bone.

*Recognition*:
    half-memory,
        half-prophecy—
            the soul's compass
                spinning toward
                    magnetic north
                        of the other.

Do they know?
    Does the river
        know the sea
            It's running toward?
                Does the seed
                    know the tree
                        It carries?

Some knowledge
    lives deeper
        than the mind's
            small theater—
                written in the script
                    that actors
                        never see.