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Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Her silence weighs heavy on my heart

As she sits with silent tongue, the music in my life no longer fills the air. The birds are confused and know not what to sing. The butterflies tumble from the sky without her whispers to ride upon. The crickets have lost their bows and their chirps have been forgotten. The sunrise brought a chill without words. Even the trickle of the creeks have fallen silent. The deafening roar of the quiet is maddening.



© Feb 27, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic

4 comments:

  1. I hate silence, too. This one feels painful. All well?

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  2. The last time I visited my favorite hillside chateau, to see my wonderful singing girl, she was not there. I left a note for her saying I might be absent for a while. I had business. I sat and enjoyed the ambiance of the cozy little niche that had become so sacred to this pilot. I waited a few hours thinking she might show. She didn't. As the night progressed, I realized my heart was as empty as my Scotch glass. I had a few more drinks, talked to a few of the other denizens and then left. I walked alone under the moon for hours and dreamed she was next to me. Now and again the slight breeze would ruffle my hair and I would turn to see if she had snuck up behind me. I was as alone in these woods as I was in the air. The only difference was that no artillery was trying do shoot me down. I think I would rather be in the air wondering if I will make it back to base, that wandering alone and questioning the chances of ever seeing her again.
    I returned the next evening, praying for one last glimpse, and to offer a farewell kiss and quick embrace before leaving. I found a note addressed to me. My heart raced, as my fingers eagerly opened the tiny envelope. The words became a blur through the tears as I read, "So sad...same all people..God bless you.." The deafening silence ripped through me like hot shrapnel making Swiss cheese of my plane. Did she think I was playing games? Did she believe I was leaving for good? Did she think I was lying? What did she think? Will I ever know?
    Tonight I sit in a run-down bar on the other side of town, but find my thoughts returning to her. After chasing beer with another and another, I find myself falling into a Glenn Miller mood. Needing any mood other than the darkness that has fallen upon me. I miss my WW II girl from the hillside chateau in war-torn France. I must now seek her out only in my dreams. Good night.

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  3. My WW II Girl Returns
    The lonely drive to the chateau last night proved to be worth my last few dollars in petrol. I saw candles burning through the dark and hazy countryside. As I drew closer, I heard her voice. I now understand the term, "My heart did a leapfrog." I am sure I saw my chest pound against my ribs and push my jacket closer to the steering wheel. She was there. Although I was less than 100 feet from the door, I gunned the old motor anyway. Just as the jeep protested against the assault and abuse, she screeched into my preferred parking spot in less than a second.
    I gathered myself and casually walked into my haunt. I had stashed all my anticipation and anxiety in my jacket pocket and planned to diffuse it within the first glass or two of liquid smoke. Nothing better than a good single-malt Highland Scotch to set the eye-sight straight and calm the racing heart. Glad the owner let me run a weekly tab, and happy that Uncle Sam paid me enough to keep this habit alive.
    I turned to gaze upon her loveliness and realized that she seemed to glow more radiant each time I saw her. Her sways hypnotic. Her voice soothing and yet enchanting. Her eyes, oh her eyes. Most of her features were hidden in the gloom and shadows, but her eyes sparkled with the candlelight, or was it the love that burned within her that offered the twinkle? More scotch is needed to contemplate such a celestial enigma.
    Glancing my way, she winks. Her smile tells me that we will dance soon. Paradise has been rediscovered.

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  4. maye its fate, maybe its just two minds as they cross. In the later portion of my shift today, i was stopped by some crickets, they no longer moved my heart, at least, now, they weigh in on me, they make my heart heavy, as the days, these days not so long ago where i knew nothing but true and love and honesty, it filled every ounce of me, i was it and it was me.

    i said that to say this, be wary of allowing a person to encapsulate your every and all, because, truly, you yourself are your only every and your only all. Love thyself and only then will another truly be love.

    :) yet, their beauty, their grace, its something phenomenal isn't it, the way it moves, and tosses one about. truly something.

    make your heart a home and then home you will be.

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