As I pause to relax in my studio, thoughts of you meander through my mind;
We have been the past, the eternal present and yet to be the imminent future.
I am graced by your unforgettable presence and continue to be humbled by it.
As you espy your shadow reflecting on your white walls, I feel it
calling.
The soothing cello I hear, its melodious, haunting tone fills the
air,
It is yearning for the bow's touch as I continuously hunger for
yours.
I hear the strings crying at the cellist's very touch, deep and
meaningful lamentation.
My sensitive, responsive heart empathises with those cello
strings,
I too quiver beneathe your delicate, feathery touch and weep for your presence.
Dark skies of night descend and I hear the melody changing;
An electrical storm approaches and the ebony sky becomes filled with colour.
I hear a tintinnabulation...the phone awakens me from my dreamlike state, it is you.
You wish to tell me about the fluttering butterflies; you then hear the covetous cello,
And there is a poignant silence between us.
Before long, our souls begin to embrace as they have done for one thousand lifetimes.
Suddenly you are here and I there as our life's spirit transcends time and unites us.
We swallow each other's very essence with each breath, making love and marrying endlessly.
`T. Imaan Tretchicovmanicova
