Patterned

If we never meet again,

remember - 

we met.

And in that meeting,

we changed.

Each of us added to the mosaic of the other's life

a tile,

or a stone,

or a small glittering something.

Perhaps,

we gave assurance,

or lent strength,

or inspired joy.

Maybe,

the worn red converse you let me borrow

were actually the golden Talaria,

carrying me swiftly toward my best tomorrow.

In a febrile haze,

you once called me 

Artemis, 

mistaking the moon's glow

for a halo,

believing that I would,

could,

protect you.

I promise I tried.

If I have not succeeded,

then I pray

I have at least helped you

transform the broken little

used-to-be's

into a work of art

as beautiful,

and competeless,

and authentic

as your soul.

I know you have made me an artist.

Did I return the favor?