Echoes, as strong as ocean waves, as faint as ripples on a garden pond, carried like a secret whispered in a crowded room; And ringing in my head they seemed like quiet, scattered revelations sent to tease my solitary muses. I wondered at their portent as one who gazes at the night sky tries with outstretched hand to touch a single, distant star; Hope a reality, and contact just beyond her fingertip. And so with sigh and mental shrug focus is channeled to what is more familiar - as dim recognition is a cold replacement for the searing of bright recollection. Now the shadows reveal themselves, the introductions not unlike those of distant ancestors to future generations. Each face from the past somewhat mirrored by infant eyes and childish lips yearning to see and speak the knowledge that would send my weighted soul on a journey of expansive discovery. Knowledge wanes then swells, the ebb of discovery drawing future to past and past to present; I am the vortex. Yet though they pass through me in shallow breaths I cannot fathom the secret fears they leave in the dusted wake trailing their winding path. The rising joys - a peak, a glimmer - converge in my chest and flutter, pound, in a space long devoid of discerning. An image rippled by falling tears that glimmers and shatters then collects the slivers and regroups, catches my eye and causes my heart to leap. An image of things to come, revealed to me with the clarity of dawning light. Oh, I would claim them for my own. Time will bring to me assurance. Assurance, hope; faith that wavers not. Dreams will navigate me to that destination, a subconscious journey, a passage from the demons' lair behind, from imagined worlds of bliss; from here, from there; from then, from now; to unite all certainties with all possibilities; to thrive on the surprise each unlived moment holds for us; to acknowledge that by living we accept the mysteries that lie ahead. To you.
© 1999 by Louise Riley and John Schneider. All rights reserved.
