Splitapart, 47

In search of my Splitapart          When the creator formed the first soul it was perfect.   The soul was flawless, it's beauty unmatched.   The sheer perfection of the soul made some of the creators servants jealous.   They had always been beautiful in their masters eyes, but now they saw themselves as pale in comparison.   A madness overtook one of the servants and he grabbed the soul and threw it to the earth where it shattered splitting into two perfect halves, one on each side of the earth.   The creators heart was broken and he cast his servant down from the heavens.   When he returned to repair the damage his servant had done he was amazed to find that the two halves had found each other and re-united on their own.   The two were again as one.  The joy that filled the soul once united brought tears of joy to the creators eyes.   Each tear that fell became a soul, and each soul split.   For though it pained him to see the agony of his creations he knew that no pain would ever overshadow the joy each would know upon finding it's split apart.


         Standing somewhere between the light and darkness, between shadow and song she waits.    I have never met her, but I know her as I know myself.    She longs to find me, just as I long to find her.   We search because neither can be complete without the other.   We search for the one that completes us, the other half of our soul, our split apart.