A Dream, A Shadow and A Memory

(This is an older poem of mine I found today and reworked.)

Great oaks stretch gnarled fingers into a canopy
shadowing a pathway of soft grass shoots
This place…I’ve been before.
Night traverses the trees, making its way
in every direction.
But not without competition from the full and smiling
circle moon.

My gaze consumes this extensive trail,
freshly bathed in spring’s
tiny flowers.
I’m awash with the profoundest appreciation
for deep silences and a pleasant breeze.
My wait won’t be long.
And, I’ve worn my best dress. 
flowing over me in a waterfall’s wash.

It’s a pleasant contrast, I believe, 
to porcelain skin 
and long auburn curls.
He will love the sight of me.

That world vanishes in a moment.
I can see no more, and he never arrives.
Still, I know his face
framed in night shades, dark-haired,
eyes a deeply hued blue.  Perhaps approaching green.

We met amidst shelves of old books,
I recall.
He, immersed in yellowing pages of philosophy
so handsome in his intelligence.
Love was not foremost.
Yet, my heart longed for some depth and sensitivity.

The world stood silent for an instant,
my soul caught in the fire of recognition.
It was then; he saw me.  
Intensely curious, wanting to speak.
Nothing arose, 
but those flames danced 
in his soul as well.

we met half-way
and realized we were home.

Danielle Shaeffer