This afternoon I saw somebody that looked like you. She was walking towards me on the sidewalk, and when I saw her I imagined it was really you walking towards me. Maybe it was a chance encounter, or maybe we were meeting to go out to lunch. I wondered what it would be like.
Would I smile as soon as I recognized you, or would I wait until you saw me first? Would you keep walking at the same pace, or would you slow down and wait for me to reach you? What would you be noticing about me as I walked towards you? Would I say "hello" as soon as you could hear me, or would I wait until I was closer to make it more intimate? Would I even say "hello" at all? Maybe my smile would be enough. Or perhaps I would try to say something charming or funny instead?
Would your eyes stay with mine as I approached, or would my obvious appreciation for your beauty make you blush and look away? Would we lean in close as we greeted each other? Would we touch? Hug? If we did hug, what would you smell like? Shampoo? Lotion? Perfume?
How close would you walk next to me as we left?
I’ll never know, because it wasn’t really you.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
"I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument while the song I came to sing remains unsung." ~ Rabindranath Tagore
- bard
- A mixture of poet and musician, warrior and philosopher, the bard, having grown weary of trying to find his place in the modern world, retired to the Lonely Bard Inn to contemplate his future. He is often seen drinking or writing alone (a personification of the inn itself), but from time to time he joins in the festivities that are always to be found in the pub. On occasion he even shares a poem or song with the sympathetic patrons, who are usually eager for new forms of amusement.
There have been times in my life when my heart was separated from me by time and distance and I saw that person everywhere. These thoughts I have felt and explored myself. I am intrigued. Makes me wonder who the most fortunate person is.
ReplyDeletethanks for visiting my blog and following me! i like your blog so far.. you seem like a fellow romantic :)
ReplyDeletelike her hair
ReplyDeletetwisting in a crowd
seeming to be the
face the voice
someone else there
was a sun-shower
gust of wind
train ride into the west
until the waxing hour
when she left
he looked up
saw Venus
saw that all his days
had been the same day
and in one moment
she opened his heart