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Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Remembering my WW II girl in the French chateau

What an interesting moment. So much rushes in at once and I am aware of it all. Sorting through it seems challenging. The glow of the laptop fades into the darkness of the room and comes in contact with the dog that is pacing and looking for a loving hand to make contact with. The muted “chink” of her tags dance with the heartbeat of the clock, hidden somewhere in the dark; each trying to set a rhythm for a moment in time. From somewhere in the stillness of the deep outside, a rumble and then scream echo through the night as a train passes in the distance.

As all of these sensations steal through the night and try to find purchase in my consciousness, all I can think of is my beautiful little girl singing in that quaint little chateau in the hills of France. Will I ever see her again? Or will I be tormented to a lifetime of trying to remember her face in that smoke filled room so many years ago. The way the wisps of blue/white caressed her as she swayed to the music. The sound of her voice as it reached across out and embraced my heart. The conversations of all other lovers lost to time. We rewrote the tome of love without saying a word that night. I touched her heart with just a gaze. She possessed me without touch.

Tonight I sit alone and try to bring the beauty of the past alive by breathing life into this memory and giving it blood through the ink of my pen. As the incessant ticking continues, the dog has settled on the cool hallway floor. A second and third train has clamored through the peripheral of my dream. As my thoughts wind down and I prepare to set the ink aside for the evening, I wonder if I am a fool for entertaining the apparition of a memory halfway around the world. I think not. I will warm up the turntable and play our song as I drift off to meet her in my dreams. A dance, a kiss, and another page we shall write. I am on my way, my love…

© Oct 31, 2012 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic

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