Skip to main content

DEAR KINDRED SOUL by Sophie Gregoire

This poem was written for Sacred Lovers and Twin Flames...

This poem was written for Sacred Lovers and Twin Flames --- these relationships that come into our lives as spiritual tools shaking us to our core and making us see the entire truth of ourselves. As Twin Flames come in our lives to teach us who we are, how to build strength on our own and become our most beautiful, empowered and unique version, they never play the role of rescuers or savers on our path --- but a bright and warm light, candle waiting close to the mountaintop of the adventure of self-discovery and individual rising.

This journey can be difficult to walk, and Twin Souls often experience back and forth feelings towards their counterparts.

As the flames of sacred love develop and the journey unfolds, they sometimes wonder what they truly want. If they’d prefer to have their counterpart in their life or not, if they’d truly like to see them again or not, if the magic is forever vanished or if the hours, days and months of separation were no more than an organized play of love — before they come together again.

This poem that I wrote a couple years ago, highlights this uncertainty and wavy way that Sacred Love only shows.

Dear Kindred Soul
by Sophie Gregoire

At heart I am pretty sure,
I will never get the chance to tell you any of this.

Neither the chemistry,
I felt on every part of my skin.
The warming shivers,
that shake my pink and spring waiting heart,
when we first met.

Nor how you made me feel
spreading your twirling light and wild fire,
deep down, body and heart.

Neither the roads you opened,
standing on your sweet boldness.
Nor the energy you gave,
handing over strength
and dreams and leaping potentials.
Your laughing world of thoughts,
to me.

I am almost certain you’ll probably never know
to what extent, and for how long
our shimmering recollections
have hoisted on my cheeks,
such a festive smile.

Was it days, months
or maybe years?
I can’t even recall
when it, when we started,
you see.

Time is a treacherous joker.
Isn’t it misrepresenting our reality?
Placing kindred souls
so far away on its merciless calendars
while the mind still recalls,
draws the thread of the past
weaves extensions from it,
a while, such a long while after,
time speaks.

the heart still jolts,
the soul still dances
its most rousing summer melodies,
when you come around for an imaginary wander.

Even if I know I may see you again in the tangible world
Deep down, I doubt it.

You shall remember,
we had been placed
on that same road by the hands of destiny
by our friends the loving stars,
and I don’t know
if they would play their divine trick,
on us, once again.

Even if I bump
into your light-green gaze
I do know
I will never see “you” again.

Of course I could catch a glimpse of you,
as a shape or an outline
walking down a well-known street.

But I get the feeling,
and it is killing my entire gentle and childish heart,
my sensitive skin
its warm recollections of your own contours
I will not reach the former you,
your well-known reflection.

If it is meant to be like this,
I’d rather not see you again.

No, I prefer to remember
our yesteryear soul connections,
Your hands in mine
as ribbons to my heart,
our sacred vestiges of an old past

Our beautifully buried recollections.

All of these still live,
inside my velvet secret box.
Defying time,
its cold and claimed reality.

In that jewelry case of my heart,
you have been put in line
or shall I say on top,
among all the kindred spirits of all times.

You simply dazzle,
the center of the whole limelight
as shiny as our rainbow moments,
brilliant as your words
their waving echo,
a sweet ballet dancing of my mind.

I prefer keeping you there
not to fade our past,
with a less lovely novelty.

I don’t need the new you.
He must be altered by time,
by the mysteries life put on his road,
Its whispered follies.

maybe we will meet again

Admittedly that’s true
It wouldn’t be you, me, us anymore,
life doesn’t preserve.
It moves, shapes, destroys
and rebuilds its garden.

But, who knows?
There’s a chance our beings
could get on well,
Some kind of us could be reborn
if you bring an incredible magic wand.

Maybe our former magnet
would inexorably gather us again.
Your smoldering looks,
would still remember
how to fondle my body and soul.
You would undress my heart,
your expert touch.

You would read
behind my impish and smiley eyes
and this wavy hair you loved that much,
messed by the same sun
the same wind,
these genuine thoughts of mine.
And I can feel now,
writing these unexpected lines
of eager words,
I would be happy if we met again.

To catch your words,
spruce and arabesque music.
Feel your rainbow skin,
receive the enveloping smiles
that time,
elsewhere than in daydreams.

Where are you hiding?
That space between
the strength of the past
and the promise of the future?

I will meet you there.

Photography by Eric Segarra

Sophie Gregoire is often found contemplating an idea or how to explain a new concept, with a notebook and pencil in hand. She is an independent soul who loves to ponder over our world and humankind. She loves writing to transform her endless thoughts into some kind of reality and traveling both faraway and deep within her heart and mind. Sophie savors coffee, encounters, yoga and meditation, with her cat as her greatest muse. Connect with Sophie on Facebook or more about Sophie here. 

~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~ 


Popular posts from this blog

MY HEART SEEPS by Edith Lazenby

Courage is not only facing fear, but also looking past fear, to see what lies it tells and truths it saves...
Sometimes I sit at a computer in trepidation. The house trembles and I wonder what I will find. 
Truth is not a fact or a feeling. It may rest on love’s heart and walk with integrity. It may stand beyond humanity in ways we can only imagine. Truth can be solid as earth and fickle as wind. But a wind can know stillness and the earth can crack wide open.
Tonight I found a stillness in a crack and managed to balance there...

My Heart Seeps
by Edith Lazenby
I cannot hold on And I cannot let go. I walk a path I don’t know. I feel moonlight But cannot see Its orb midst The cloudy cold. My hands tremble. My eyes tear. My toes wriggle To grasp earth. I want to stand Tall in the light Yet fear shadows all. Inside I crumble Under the weight I cannot shoulder.

FOR THE SISTERS by Tammy T. Stone

These days, I’m finding it difficult – along with many, many others - not to feel disheartened...
I'm disheartened by the feeling that chaos has descended upon us, at the negativity and fear, the anger and reactivity, the violent spirit of animosity characterizing the times. It’s hard not to give in to the feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, even as we cling to the strong conviction that it is our positivity and our love that will prevail.
Every crevice of my heart goes out to the suffering (and we are all suffering when one of us suffers), and my heart aches for the untold numbers of women around the world who are immediately and devastatingly affected by recent decisions to cut funding to organizations vital to their health and wellbeing, a movement that horrifyingly undermines women’s sovereignty over their own bodies. Words do not do the feeling justice.
It feels to me that the earth itself is overturning, that our fragile grasp of what is right and true, of our incredibl…

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness…
Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather all of life into your inner c…