LOVE TRAVELS FAR TO THE EAST

Love bought a wagon and drove slowly to the east, under the sun of Sahara, and as far as the east is from the west, my love traveled far away from home.

Canoe

While in the east, love built a canoe and paddled quietly along the paths called North; on top of the waters of the Pacific and as far as the heaven is from the earth love’s shadow traveled far away from sight.

My love has gone far away in search of gold from the East but I am locked inside the dust of the west, inside the prison bars of expectation.

Love grew wings and promised to be back. The nights are cold and lonely but I still await my love’s return amidst the wolves and wild cats in our forest.

I climbed the mountains to find a vague sight of him, but like the moon at noon time, love was in hiding.

Like the ten virgins; I have waited ten months, I’ve been sick ten times, I have skipped ten Sabbaths all in the waiting of my love. I rush awake every time the door makes a silent sound in opening; has my love come back? have his beautiful feet returned home?

I am counting seconds and waiting minutes. I am awaiting another night for the day love would awake me again in the morning with a kiss, hold me tight when fears crawl into my heart; the day love would hold my waist and draw me close in the cold of winter.

I’ve missed my love much. I’ve missed seeing the eyes he wears. In my waking every morning, I turn aside to welcome him to a new day but love is away – a thousand miles from me. I am greeted instead with heavy weight of disappointments dipped in deep regrets

Before my regrets could see the dawn of December, daughter came calling, shouting, screaming, dancing and happy: “Love is back! Love is back! I have seen his wagon coming from the mountains.” I wore my scarf around my chest. I wore my shoes on my hands. I wore my hat on my legs and ran breathlessly toward the mountains. With great wide eyes and chuckles I sped away. I smiled on till the wagon came closer. And slowly it came and passed me by. Then I realised it was the wagon of our Sheriff coming home for Christmas. Two tear drops were all I could manage as Sheriff touched his cap and looked at me in greeting.

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