Somewhere in the dark I see my lover reaching out to me;
Smoky haze before my eyes, shaky figures start to rise
Coming toward me now I hear chanting voices low and clear
Swirling, swimming, diving, flying, lifting, singing am I dying

Something’s in the dark, I know, takes me where I would not go,
A hand beneath, a hand above, I feel them now the hands of love

Then death and darkness and beyond no leaving this no greater bond
I love you echoes thru the night then gods’ eternal days turn bright
And nothing dims and nothing goes the light of love makes all things glow

And in my passing comes the sound that all life sings when we are found.

We sing when we can, and we weep. Sometimes we just look at each other and will for time to stop. It never does.

We sleep and dream, knowing this takes time from being awake together. The clock is running down but instead of stopping time it will stop life. Mine. We cannot bear to have time end in that place. And so we keep moving, packing as much as we can into time before it closes in on itself. Putting as much as we can into memories before there are no more……

It was not like you would think, not the instant intense jumping into bed and never coming out. It was not the bright colors and loud music and running thru fields of flowers kind of reunion.

It was the coming together of complementary colors that have known the whole spectrum and matured into their own hues; colors that required a lifetime of evolving before they became such a perfect and inevitable match. Friends who had weathered the best and the worst of living and had been connected throughout, having known the best and worst of friendship at the same time. Friends who forged their bond in the cauldron of their own souls and who learned from their own histories how to recognize soulmates when they found them. Friends who ran in terror from this and embraced it at the same time. The best and deepest and cleanest and purest love is built in the soul connections of such friendships.

It was in the intimacy of shared souls, all the reality and hard-fought trust and hope and yes, faith, eventually faith, in each other that shone thru.

And in that eternal, harder than anything else in the world, declaration, choked out despite crippling histories and infinitely deep fears, drawn out through that glimmer of hope and revelation that even for us in the face of death there was light, is the salvation of existence. Even if it ends in the next moment.

For in the declaration is the saving, the breaking through the defenses of life and the entry into the light. The passage through the bulwarks of protection and preservation into the soul of the other and the hope, trust and faith that your heart and your soul are safe in the arms of the other person.

The younger ones look at us and believe that when the hatch door closes there is mad emotion. But they are wrong. If it were them, that would be true; for us it is joy-- calm, sweet, tempered with finitude and overcome with eternity, joy. Nothing but joy. Joy is not blind; it knows we end, that all things end, but joy also knows that nothing truly ends when we are found. We are found to each other. We are bound into the eternal pattern of all that forms the rhythm of the universe. And we are here. And that connection, the one we came though hell and our personal demons to recognize and name and embrace, the one we had to respond to every bit as much as the cylons had to respond to their song, that connection is here for us through life and death and all that the gods can ever bring. We are here. We are home. The music is ours and we sing to each other, and the one who outlives the other will continue to sing it to the end of time. We are loved, we are found, and that is everything. So sing we all.