Do you still remember when we found ourselves lost in this place, blindfolded and numb, yet feeling an old strangeness like when two souls stray on a barren land or near open sea alone?
We felt it, the sudden gust of wind that brushed harshly on our skin. Those unmistakable straws that lay damp, uneven and unrustling at our feet. The steadily growing puddles. The onset of rain.
Can you still see us at the time when we were strangers? When each of us to another was a faint reminder of a person, some faceless name or nameless face? Were we just an echo of a love we have always known?
Oh yes I still see us. Together. Peering through the darkness of our covers almost falling upon each other. Breathless.
And then it happened… we found each other’s hands in one fleeting moment when time forgot the dynamics of life’s own clockwork even as the howling wind showed no promise of breeze and the sun made feeble attempts to shine shafts of lights on our hair…our very skin.
I dwell on this memory. It feeds my soul. We touched. The rhythmic beating of our hearts racing to the tune of a sentimental song. Was it you who broke the stillness of the moment standing in the eye of a raging rainstorm? Was it your gentle laughter for this clumsiness that lay comfort and sharply cut the thickness of this solitude like a blade of grass on fresh morning dew?
I believe each of us deserves a moment of redemption. Mine began the second you raised your hand to feel the contours of my face. Gently, each finger, drenched, lingered for a while, probing, as if putting together pieces of my history, my life, my worth. It is ours to trace.
I would have given everything to relive a shining moment in that godforsaken place. I can wait for rain clouds to disappear. I can wait days and nights. I can till my own piece of earth and tell you who will always be its fairest blossom. Yet it is real, always the pain of parting. A piece of me remained long after we said our goodbyes. Did you even hear me whisper:
“I’ll be sowing the seed of a flower
whenever I think of us together?”
It was a season long gone. Now the cool summer breeze gives hint of fresh hay. But I still yearn, anticipating to see you back up this narrow path someday. Because in the end, there are promises to keep.
In case someday you’d again wander this very same plot of land we had once shared together, chances are you’ll still find me here –
in our great flower garden forever.
(tribute to EAN)