converge
We stood on the same ground,
breathed the same air,
our eyes locked to the same horizon,
our shoulders tired from holding the weight of the clouds above us,
separated only by the clocks of our lives.
We were parallel lines moving in tandem,
never intersecting,
until the planes of our existence tipped in our favor
- and our realities converge.
Although in hindsight,
part of me wondered if that was for the best.
This poem truly resonated with me—it’s as if you plucked a fragment of my own life and set it to words. The way you evoke shared space and experience is quietly breathtaking. “We stood on the same ground, / breathed the same air” —those lines hit with such understated universality, yet they ache with the specificity of two people so close yet separated by something as mundane yet monumental as “the clocks of our lives”.
ReplyDeleteThe metaphor of parallel lines moving in tandem struck me deeply (and what a genius emplyment of another universal, this time geometric!). I’ve often thought of certain relationships from my past as being just like that: close enough to feel the gravitational pull, but never quite intersecting. And then, the tipping of “the planes of our existence”—what a powerful image, wiuth another geometric nod to shifting dimensions/perspectives! It feels almost mythic, like a cosmic rebalancing to allow the impossible to happen. But the ambiguity of that convergence, the final note of questioning whether it was for the best—that’s where the poem transcends its narrative. I applaud you for going there to that bittersweet truth that even the moments we long for may not bring us the solace or resolution we imagine.
Such profound emotional honesty. It’s a quiet undoing of the expectation that convergence is inherently good, and a reminder that life’s complexity doesn’t always allow for tidy resolutions.
Thank you for sharing this; even though it’s been six years since you posted it, it still reaches out and connects (and I couldn't possibly leave this comments section blank! 😉). Please know your writing has left a mark.