Dear friend of my heart,
Have you ever felt like you had been away for years, but now you are back to a place so real it makes you cry to say even the simplest of things? I have. The beautiful stranger left without ceremony. I listened to her leave.
Oh beautiful stranger, the spirit of inquiry seems to have abandoned me in your soft presence. I find myself to be caught somewhere in between worlds, not knowing what or where. Perhaps this is a place for poetry. It does not have anything to do with the projects I have undertaken. Instead of being a mute observer I could have participated in our togetherness. I did look at you, my body towards you from a safe distance. It was too far even from a smile, let alone confessions. You left. I watched you leave. From a seemingly inconsequential corner of my eye, I listened to your leaving.
Where do I figure in your story? This moment, in all probability, will disappear from your life, from your memories, without a trace. You will not remember me. You will perhaps never think of me again. You will never know what you meant to me in this moment. It might as well have never happened. We never really met, never became anyone to each other. There was no effective exchange, no transition with a transcript or a trace.
That is not entirely true. I do address this letter to you, oh beautiful stranger and to the admittance that for a moment in this quiet evening, you became the purpose of my existence.
You left me alone with the wind that carried me into the night, and to this night I confess…
Oh wind! Do you know that I love you?
Oh song of the night, I am your child.
For years I have been away…
now, I am here, right here, right now,
Oh great song! Your child is home.
The stars are sparse… stranded in a cloudy sky
We await the rains…
We await clear skies that shall follow tomorrow.
Shadows dance, the night is here
and I the child of her song, am finally home…
an immaculate windy night to you, dear friend of my heart…
eager to hear from you