Where does my other half reside;
and from where come these little
messages of hope and consolation?

I'm aware of dreams and intuition,
yet there appears to be a specific
place of unidentified habitation.

Flitting here, ghosting there,
come back, come forth,
I seek you in the night, and see
you forever at the peripheral.

Most of us spend this entire life
trying to find the succinct mate
of our own soul, but I sometimes

suspect you were always there,
at my side, a better part of my
own brain, a reflection of us . . .

flitting here, ghosting there,
coming back, coming forth,
we are in the night, and we
will mingle at the peripheral.

photograph by René Seindal

Castor and Pollux, in classical mythology were twins;   Castor  was mortal, 
Pollux, immortal.   When Castor was  killed in battle, Pollux mourned so 
grievously that Zeus took pity on him and allowed the brothers to take turns 
at  life and death.