Here, Or There Poem by grace mariner

What spell could be cast to take us back in time?
Where is the genius who has conquered time travel when we need him,
or her, most?
To what deity must I pledge my service to who can bring
you back to me?
There were bits of majick in both of our spirits.
Together that power was raging and its spell unbreakable, supernatural in its strength.
But other forces from a wicked past fell upon us and you had to go. I could not go with you, and so, here I remain still.
The spell, it seemed, broken.
The chant faded as you did from my sight.
No altars, no oils, no herbs or crystals would consecrate
or alter this course or its dark foreboding.
Your touch is a memory, your voice a shadow.
But what relics remain are powerful talismans still!
Powerful enough to subdue the urges of the basest kind and
allow the reconciliation of the past and present.
And so I will kneel at my altar and cast within my sacred circle by the waxing moon, bidding your return to me.
In this world, or the next.
I need no other power than my own as your majick still lives
within me, body and blood united.
It drives me forward, even as your image fades behind.
So I will speak it aloud for all Earth's elements to hear and sanctify.
I will kiss the breeze to carry my passion, its dark perfume to you, wherever you are.
And I will pray at my altar for your health, your happiness,
and your spirits return to mine, either here or there.