Footprints on the Clouds

He calls me his serenity
and I call him my strength
and we are each
the one thing
the other needs the most
two lesser angels
each with one wing
missing
bound to the earth

both rich with reason,
with rhythm,
we never noticed
what was missing,
we weren’t looking
for completion,
except maybe
a little more peace
for him and
a little less fear
for me

a respite from voices
at night, after
he’s driven his demons
back behind
the wrought-iron fence
of his inner sanctum,
some silence with which
to clean his wounds

a greater courage
to flee the Purgatory
of inertia, with its
mute, stoic ghouls
that rob my decisions
and dog my footsteps
in broad daylight,
a firmer step when
I walk away from the vice
of too-bruised goodbyes

we’d look in the mirror
and we were alone
save for the one wing
that needed meaning

there was no gaping hole
to fill, only flaws
in our character to work on

caught up in our lives,
our lives brought us together
our lives are our message
to each other
and we are now called
by the names
of our better reflections
when,
joined at the soul,
we can finally take to the sky..