Mahogany falls ripple over her shoulders in a gentle cascade. Eyes wide, empty, searching, yearning with a hopeful and curious light. A hint of betrayal and pain from the past.
Her gaze settles upon me with the lightness of butterfly wings. Yet, cloaks me with the weight of a blacksmith's anvil...
An unspoken question...Is it hers or mine? Fear comes with the realm of the unknown.
Chance they call it, a choice to make, a game to play or beg you to take. So, of the question. is it in her eyes or in the air? Is it even real? Perhaps, which one could it be?
Do I see the reflection of recognition? After all this time? Am I merely crazed? Is it just in my mind? Can the answer be found?
Should I pretend to be Blind?

The blind man slowly rises to his feet. Bending over and momentarily fumbling for his walking stick.Finding it propped against the flat topped boulder he uses as both a table top and chair. He takes the usual 27 steps to the mouth of the cave.Just before reaching the opening, he feels the slight breeze freshening his cheeks while gently tossing his beard about. As if nature were trying to comb his his coarse and weathered ****** hair.
At 28 steps, the sun greets his skin with an early morning warmth. A faint touch of dew washes through his nostrils, reminding him of the brief rain shower that woke him just before the break of day. Justifying the stiffness in his joints. Yes, best to sit a spell and allow the sun to warm the marrow. Perhaps keeping his movements spry and youthful for an hour or two. Carefully measured to a bit arduous after that.
Now, the morning unfolds before and below him in the high mountain meadow that provides him most of his meager needs. The stream to his left, babbling it's way across the rocks and tickling his ears. Then, rushing outward and downward, diagonally across the meadow. Slowing on the far right side before narrowing and winding it's way into the hardwoods. His memory still strong, long after his sight left him those..... how many years ago now?
The cry of an eagle pierces his ears. No doubt a rodent or rabbit is in peril shortly. Not a fish he ponders. Just across the stream,not too far, maybe forty to fifty feet, the sudden scraping of hooves against the small pebbled bottom of the stream. Preceded by the hollow plunk of the nervous steps of a fawn as she slowly lowers her head to quench her thirst before bedding down for the day. Doe is nearby watching her, listening intently for signs of danger to her young one. Yes,there it is, a rushed deep and anxious breath tells him so.
The old man ambles back into the cave to fetch his hat.

Now, tell me...Did you see what the blind man saw?

Were I to wander, would I find a place fonder? Cross hill and dale, mountains, rivers and wood.
Discover those things long since forgotten, years ago. Reclaiming the joy, lamenting the woes.
Times past, lingering still in the faint glimmer of a remnant will...Barely a glowing ember of hope.
Prayer, the strength to gently fan a frail flickering flame, amid the ever daunting doubt.
Tasked beyond belief, Faith, a must beneath the well wallowed grief and regret. To carry on, would it be worth it? To draw the next breath?
How can you know? Is this how we grow? To leave them behind...to explore a completely different realm.
To leave them a question unanswered in their minds. Is cruelty a two-way street? Am I really ready to admit defeat?
Is it time to cash in my chips? Make the last fatal bet? Mayhaps, the future could be a winner yet?

The Lord knows my needs, my thoughts, my weakness, my strength and even my heart's desire.
I only hope he hears my prayers.
Through all the troubles and heartaches, betrayals and sorrows...Yes Blessings, more than just a few.
After so many years and countless tears...Having abandoned my precious hope, holding just enough rope...
Resigning myself to being an Unworthy single man,
I set my eyes on him. No longer asking  is it this one? Or her?
Just who?
Just in time and out of the Blue...the Lord sent me You!
His answer to my Prayers.

The morning dew on the petals of a callalily is not as soft as the essence that flows from you.
Your energy is so chantilly. Soft, calm, yet steadily effervescent. Refined, elegant, magnetic.
A breeze gently caressing the supple branches of a willow tree cannot match the grace with which you move.
The twinkling of the stars at night could never compare to the joyful sparkle in your eyes that captivates me so.
When you smile, I become a prisoner without chains. I have no reason nor desire to escape.

To gaze upon your face in the moonlight to end my day.
Off racing the morrow to capture the prize of the coming day...
to see your face again at first peep...to see you smile easily as you slowly rouse from sleep.
Weekends are like a garden beneath a blanket of winter snow...you know the beauty is there, you just have to wait for it.
The eternity it takes to see you again torments my heart and is agony for my eyes not to rest until they glimpse your stunning beauty once more...my Darling...