Dusting off a past-flung puzzle,
Pieces calling out to forgotten homes,
At once a primal pattern match finds a face,
A symmetrical and piercing visage,
Filing itself among the subliminal records of the mind,
Folding from one plane of order to the next.

Like handwarmers in the bristly air,
Firm iron to the sweeping blade,
A candle in the deepened night,
Full laughter in the deafening rain,
Is a good family - a foretaste of the kingdom.

As the orange lights bathe these teal chairs in citrus waves,
A lulling rattle flows unending through the carriage.

We sit face to face,
Speaking of the simple and complex.

Young travelers sojourning in a distant land,
After recharging with our own.

All mysteries are our Lord's,
The hiding place of knowledge and wisdom are bare before him.

Over time we will know,
He will share with us the simple and the complex.

And into eternity we shall laugh and learn.