Ten, eleven, twelve - too
many nights had come
to pass without him there. (What good the counting
or the quantity society deemed real to life just then?)
His eyes, that mighty spark of living, loving soul -
replied: "Think not, my one and only love, of what
was left behind. Rather focus on this love we share
in moments out of time or space, for these will
always rhyme and coincide."
And so she woke within a wild
Another pair of eyes met hers this time, and
at last she felt a sense of safety rise within
her yet again. Quiet and serene, somehow
unaltered in quivering of salient depth, as
he gazed so deeply into hers. He offered her
a hand, to help her up. Source of energy,
their touch became a newly risen vein
of life's survival. A tenderness that lived
beyond all thought somehow arrived to
usher her into a life (once dreamt, of old).
And so her hand took hold of his, without
so much as asking a permission.
She led, yet she was led by
power, into a complex understanding few
have ever gleaned. A hidden energy was
freely passed, by this meeting of their eyes
(yet it was so much more than eyes or touch
that came to tell this tale). It was as if a greater
force, the source of every life in form, had
chosen her for something other than the norm.
An energy (so vast it overwhelmed the dying
past), began to rush through every cell of flesh.
And she was altered (as
if sacrificed upon the
altar of an everlasting deity). An awesome wonder
filled the emptiness she used to know as being.
And so she chose to travel on, into this vast
unknown; knowing only that her true love
still somehow was walking there
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home...