Turtle Doves

What remain are but hazy memories of the past gone by – I hardly seem to remember. There wasn’t much that really caught the mind’s eye, nothing that would hold on to later reminisce. It seemed like I was living la Vida Buena, all in utopian balance. I guess I wasn’t wrong, but I do know that I wasn’t right either. The tones of my canvas, that then prevailed, were subtle, flawless and somehow clear – at least those instances that are still enshrined in the fazed out hollows of my memory.

There was some fundamental ingredient that was missing – something that would highlight those tones that, though becalming and dulcifying were still dull and subdued. They needed the touch of some amazingly conjured up alchemy, something magical. Where would that come from? I hoped to find out soon.

Seasons had since changed; time had passed as I still waited with living hope. Will the silent footsteps of time lead me to the holder of that magic wand and license our paths to cross?

And there, caught unawares was I, when you came by. It didn’t take too long to recognize. I couldn’t have been wrong and as my conviction still grows, I knew when I saw the light glow dim above your left shoulder. But, did you see it over mine?

There you were, you held that clairvoyant brush, the one that would, if it braced my portrait with a stroke, add colour and place every tone in note. With hope I breathe, I move, I pass, but a hope much different – a hope to live through a cherished dream of love like the turtle doves of Christmas. I shall keep this one, will you shield the other?