You
visited me last night. Alone and unadorned, you waited for me til
slumber brought me back into your arms. We met in the shadow of that
famed Memorial, no longer strangers but as the lovers we once were. The
sky was dark, so dark that your face was hidden behind a veil of evening
fog that obscured all but the outlines of your approaching silhouette. I
took a step towards you, unsure of your motivations and equally
ignorant of my own. When finally our paths converged I looked upon your
face to see a familiar smile that these five months could not erase from
my memory. Whatever words you intended to utter were already conveyed
in the radiance of your upturned lips and those glistening eyes softly
glowing in the dull moonlight. And my tongue fell silent too, tamed
behind the quivering lips that a single teardrop had managed to seal.
You’re
here at my request. The hour of tourists has passed and the clamor of
children and cameras no longer echoes through this open corridor. I lead
you up the steps overlooking that shallow pool whose still waters have
become a terrestrial sky. Its surface is a pane of glass that only
betrays its mimicry when startled by the usual breezes that run through
this place. Winds dash unimpeded over eternity’s mirror, kissing the
water’s edge and leaving rippling footsteps in their path. From there
they dash themselves against the sturdy trunks of the surrounding
willows and scatter into a thousand hands that shake those sturdy
branches, causing rustling leaves to whisper into the cool night air.
Those same hands reach out for you, whipping your hair into a trove of
raven’s fur that obscures your face behind a mane of shaded tresses. Yet
still your smile remains, more radiant than ever and unhindered by a
moment’s distraction. You know what expectations time has yet to bear,
expectations that your eyes beckon me to fulfill.
Only hands of gentle breezes have you known this night, but no longer it seems. Looking down, you see my hands take your own. You see a man dropping to one knee and reaching into his pocket. A moment later a promise is revealed, a promise wound in bands of white gold and christened with a chiseled stone of beauty wrapped in light. It scatters the moonlight. A prism of beauty made wondrous by the delicate hand of the angel it adorns.
“Will you…” I say before a kiss provides an answer surer than any poet’s graces.
We descend those steps with our eyes towards the future, the first of many we will take over a lifetime together. This moment was only for us to share, witnessed simply by two adjoining souls and the venerable Lincoln who watched stoically from above. He watches us leave his noble chamber to embark on paths not yet clear, but full of wonder all the same. Just as we pass beyond his permanent stare the curtain closes and I awake.
I have had many such dreams as these. Always they come to me on nights when their presence is least expected and my conscience ill-prepared. Though the players are forever the same, the stage upon which we play is not. Sometimes I see you at the end of that sacred aisle, adorned in white with your father by your side. Your face mocks the goddesses’ envy with a beauty no veil could ever hope to conceal. Other times the nurses approach, cradling a child we welcome to your bosom. A happier moment I dare not ask for, a nobler wife I cannot conceive. Occasionally I see two figures whose bodies have succumbed to their years, hair white as morning frost with heavy lines running across deeply furrowed brows. The many creases betray the hardship of age, yet pass unnoticed between the two souls whose love for each other blinds them to imperfections. In their eyes there are no imperfections, only reflections of eternity into which they continually gaze.
The hour is late and my weariness shall soon overtake me. If I should stumble onto another stage tonight and find myself alone in the spotlight, I hope it will not be for too long. I hope you will join me for another evening that I may for a moment call you my own. It does so help with the loneliness, a momentary reprieve to let me forget how much I miss you.
