Title: Bashert
Author: Mycroft Holmes
Characters: K/S
Rating: G, drabble-and-a-half
Disclaimer: Paraborg/Viagracom owns Star Trek, etc. Dale Kushner owns her poem. No infringement intended, no money being made.
Feedback: mycholmes02113 @ yahoo.com or the SBS-ezine mailing list
Summary: Simple, very, Spock POV piece.
Note: for LND, who changes the world every day. His, mine, and ours.

One's destiny

Light rains down through the pine in muzzy patches.
Unripened blueberries. Strawberries
among the timothy.

On the lake, whitecaps
scored by wind into splendid music.
Sunlight teasing the newest white in your beard.

Our bodies
stretch side by side on the granite outcrop.

Above your head a leaf
tossed from a dying birch
prematurely,

a small gold rag
embroidered with a leaf-miner's destiny.
The boyish scaffold of your smile in shadow.

That we have come this far together
is miraculous.

Because once,
truth was my enemy I didn't call it lying then.
In my mind I said, I'm-Saving-Him-From-The-Pain.

Death threw bravos at me,
hummed at my heels.
The lying
was a trick I played on myself, ignorantly,
the way children do
when they hold their breath.

But I was too old to taunt angels.
Years ago we came here
in winter, season of blankness,
the dark happening larger and larger each day.

That's how I remember it.
We had stopped shining.

July now, and in a few hours
the shore-hugging pines
will begin their double lives

under the water's onyx surface
where the stars
settle into their signature designs.

Then the loons will come on
song passing through their prehistoric bones,
emptying the air of all other sound.

Mate. Mated. Such simple words.
Bashert. ~Dale M. Kushner (2000)