Always Was

I knew you before we met.
Not casually, not in passing.

I knew it was you
the first time I knew.

Years went by
but I knew you.
In me
a door left cracked,
a record un-spun,
a fire that knew too.

I knew you wouldn’t arrive
in a straight line.

Your image in me,
flickering, folding,
found me
when I stopped reaching,
when I stepped past my name
and let silence speak.

But I knew you were never lost,
and never left.
And I knew
when you returned,
I’d know it.

I knew the earth would smile across the sky,
I knew the sun would bow.
I knew the moon
would undress,
and the waters
would sink in.

Before we met,
I knew what it meant
to be alone
today,
tomorrow,
together,
and Sunday, holy.

I knew you before all the days
that will ever be.

And I knew,
before you showed,
I’d need to be ready
for you to leave.

I’m sorry
it’s taking so long.