The curtains were drawn;
The lights had been dimmed;
The seats sat empty.
Ever since the gavel struck the end,
    the stage had remained silent.
The seasons passed with action played backstage.

I had begun to linger by the stage door;
Glancing at those passing by; wondering…dreaming.
Then I saw her…then I saw…her.
After so long playing to a deserted house;
Stage fright…but an invitation sent nonetheless.

A ticket for the best seat in the house was hers;
     third-row center.
The house lights dimmed, the curtain rose,
The stage was ablaze once again.
Her heart, soul, mind, and strength
Tempered by the hellish fires of life’s testing;
Coalesced into an energy that pierced deep into my being.
Enlivened by this vital force
The action was vibrant as never before,
And as Scene One was coming to a close I glanced offstage,
But her seat was empty; the house was vacant once again.

As the lights dimmed I sank to my knees;
     my mind awash with questions.
Before the story had even begun to unfold she was gone.
My unveiled heart, my naked soul laid open…but still empty.
The curtains have been redrawn; the stage has been struck.
Backstage again, yet not alone.
Her image, her touch, her memory branded on my mind.
Alive for an instant…truly alive;
I had hoped for a longer run;
     season after season…but the moment was extraordinary.
I cannot forget