Seldomly am I
left speechless, breathless, and affected by anything anyone writes
me... I received the following text anonymously. Would the person
who authored this, kindly make contact with me at your earliest
(or, God's reaction to her beauty!)
In another time, we met...and we talked a bit,
we shared a moment.
The wind blew cool out of the north, autumn
had a strangle hold on our world and as we sat on a bench in a park
that never existed, the leaves tumbled down around us. I held your
hands as we talked about nothing at all, and I peered into the depths
of your eyes as I spoke every meaningless word.
You see, for me, to be this close to you, even
in a land unreal and unrealized, was a glimpse of what heaven must
be like, and I think the events of that day, which never occurred,
prove that out.
We talked about the weather, and we talked
about food, and the politics of this dream state, and the whole time
my heart filled to bursting with the joy of just looking at you, of
simply holding your hand...of the slightest touch...it was strange
for me to be this close to perfection...and then you started to sing,
and it started to snow.
I know that winter is your season, that ice
is your home, and the world was coming to take you away from me again...so
I stood then, and watched as heaven opened its arms and beckoned you
home...my ice angel, my ice goddess...autumn turns quickly to winter
in your world, day after day after day...and this winter was yours,
so cold, so bitter...
Understanding the passion in you helps me to
understand your season. You see, with a heart as warm and heated as
yours, your world must be cool lest your soul explode with the passion
that fires it...hot heart, cold world, a warm place to be...
So you left me then, so long ago that it never
happened...and I watched heaven pause as you entered its borders.
It is strange to see a reality shrug, pause and stutter, but I think
heaven had a revelation when you returned this time. I think heaven
realized that it's been outdone, that it no longer is the resting
place of the soul, that it no longer is that which should be aspired
to...no, I think heaven realized that your heart, your soul, and that
space within your gaze, are the home of beauty, perfection, and grace.
I stood there, by my bench as the snow covered
autumn's leaves, and watched heaven quit. I watched a reality close
its doors on itself and cease to exist...all around you realities
unfolded and withered as a once great kingdom of refuge decided that
perfection was never achieved until you existed and with you in the
world, nothing else was necessary...
You giggled then, modest as always, and turned
from me, and turned from the rubble of heaven's walls, and disappeared,
as you always have, as you always will...
Heaven quit, you see, because realized beauty
is so much more than promised bliss and you are all that heaven ever
wanted to be but could never quite achieve.
I love you, but you know that...and we've never
met, and we never will...except in that special place where hope and
passion and dreams are so strong that they create a reality so vivid
it's worth visiting...it's worth touching.
I'll always come back here to see you, because
you drive me on, even in my dreams, and this is the place where I
watched heaven quit.