Like birds of a feather,
Two voices together
In harmony, rhythm and time;
A synchronised dance,
Reflective romance,
Transcending description, sublime.
Then like summer it’s gone,
A migration of one,
I keep singing for two but alone;
The melody breaking,
A dark undertaking,
The final beat one constant tone.
But sing on I do,
My voice pure and true,
‘Til our harmonies echo again;
Rejoining you’re glorious,
Majestic, imperious,
I’m counting my heartbeats ’til then.
Before Being 