Discovery

How have I known you without meeting you?
Where had we hidden the two parts of our souls?
Rusty souls that perfectly match their jagged edges,
Like old worn friendship charms that have been buried in a sleeping garden.
How have I only just found you?
You, who feel me and sense me and read me and Know me.
We must have met before, of course.
Maybe in the garden, centuries ago.
With the scent of jasmine and sweat and wine.
Burying our charms with silver spades, knowing then, knowing,

We will find them again.

When the garden awakes.