Where joining matters most might be the skyline,
Heavens reaching down caressing earth,
Or maybe where the waters kiss the shoreline,
Tumbling home anew, each wave rebirthed.
It may be where the mountains jag to cloud line
Or in the merging of the roots with soil,
Perhaps where rocks and fissures meet at hairline,
Or where air and vapour mingle at the boil.
It could just be where lovers touch on timeline,
Combined in bliss consumed, extraordinaire,
It matters not a whit, it’s all a fine line
From conjoined separation, here or there.
scottishmomus 