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

Life is displayed in the color green,
Stalks of corn, a field of beans.
The oak tree's leaves, the roses stem,
The fresh mown hay, the forest glen.

Life is displayed in the color yellow,
A daffodil or lemon Jell-o.
The morning sun, a buttercup's wings,
A smiley face, a topaz ring.

Life is displayed in the color brown,
The deep rich soil at the edge of town.
A chocolate chip, a sorrel foal,
Steaming cocoa, a fresh baked roll.

Life is displayed in the color blue,
Neptune's ocean, and berries too.
A mountain stream, the desert skies,
But favorite to me are my little girl's eyes.

I bumped my head against the slate gray sky.

The shattered pieces of a fanciful dream cover me;

My mind is now unclouded by childish, romantic notions.

The emptiness beckons once more;

An invitation to slog through the dark swamps of soured hope

   and splintered delusions of love.

I allowed my heart’s citadel to be breached;

Opening the gate to rejection’s crushing blow.

The banner of inadequacy raised high once more,

To flutter again in the winds of remembered failures and defeats.

“It is not good for the man to be alone.”

That phrase rings hollow amidst such pain;

Alone seems better than discarded.