In the garden of the soul, where the Twin does dwell, A mirror to himself, in every curve and swell, With a spirit of sport, like the wind he does glide, Pondering deeply, where perfection does hide. He seeks the identical, in symmetry’s embrace, His posture, a poem, in every line and space. Like Rumi, he whispers to the sky and the earth, Finding unity in the dance of his birth. His eyes, they search for the echo so Devine Where every part of him meets the the word “define” Deep inside his heart, he finds his peace, In the perfect harmony, all strife does cease. He moves through life with an artist's grace, Each step a verse, each breath a place, Where the twin sees not just form, but the soul, In the mirror of life, he plays his role. So dance, dear twin, in your quest so fine, For in your pursuit of perfection, you're divine. Like the reed flute's song, pure and bright, Your life, a poem, bathed in God’s light.