Crimson Blush

As the evening crests upon the day, I took a walk in the Wildwood. While the setting sun made steady retreat and descended below horizon's line, its luminescent power faded into a lambent afterglow. The daunting scale of the timbers' range scattered the remaining light into golden fragments, casting sable shades across the forest floor—eerie abstractions that dance and flicker.

A long path lay before me, and with every step of my hopeful, reminiscent procession, I drift deeper into a trance of tranquil contemplation. The eve is bewitching, but even its enthralling grasp could not hold my attention for long, as my thoughts are fixed on you.

I recall the day I first saw you at that quaint al fresco café; the fragrant air was rich with hints of cinnamon and the floral bouquet of nearby jasmine; and with the call of a sultry breeze swept in, you appeared before me. No angel held in warmth by Heaven's light ever glowed quite so bright.

Moments after I regained my breath, your wandering eyes caught mine—I saw you, then you saw me. To one another, across the distance between us, our smiles confirmed what our eyes spoke: whispered secrets, captivating our imaginations in enticing states of seductive hypnosis. With each glance, the tantalizing moments grew with sedulous desire; all worthiness lacks in any word that could attempt to describe your timeless beauty. I never knew when I woke that day that I'd come to a crossroad in my life—a swift arrival at the intersection of chance and fate. After that day, our lives would be interwoven into a splendid lattice of perfection. Such treasured, immortal memories—how they always add a sugar-sweet glaze to each present day.

Perhaps it was your gracious nature that intrigued me so: diffident and sweet, you smiled as I leaned in to kiss your cheek. So flush, you were all abash with crimson blush. The rouge of wine, the reddest rose, lips the color of cinnabar... my mind wanders.

I always enjoy walking with you in the Wildwood; you always notice what I miss, you always appreciate what I dismiss. I am overwhelmed by the scintillating splendor that resides in your eyes; with every look into mine, it's as if you peer into my soul and renew—with each arresting gaze—the fragile equipoise of this exhilarating, evanescent interlude.

The foreboding darkness sets in over the land; the night ushers in a curious orchestration of crickets, bullfrogs, and fireflies—a nocturnal symphony by its lunar conductor. A long path lay before me, and with every step, my purpose becomes clear.

When we are together, the unison of our pulse rises and pounds in collective salvo; the beating of our hearts echoes together as one, steadily pacing an astral cadence that reverberates throughout space and transcends time.

As the moon continues ascent to climax, its saffron glow is absorbed and diffused by the darkness of eclipsed Earth... I walk on; an owl on lookout, perched above, calls down, "Who, who goes there?" I do not answer.

Far off in the distant night, a bell tolls—the old clock tower sounds the changing hour. As I look up toward the western sky, a series of shooting stars flash across the firmament. In an instant of introspection, I become filled with overwhelming serenity. When you find absolution and make peace with yourself and the world, your childlike vision is restored; you can once again see that splendor in the grass; once again you will simply exist—a beautiful life amongst the living.

This is all an astonishing baroque ensemble, truly a concert of capricious mélange. We are exquisite elemental beings—ephemeral and sweet—juxtaposed among contrasting elements, all coexisting in one realm, in constant flux. How beautiful! In this awesome amalgamation, two creatures could bear such intrinsic affinity toward one another... and how unlikely.

A halcyon breeze makes way through the trees so gently, it's as if trying not to disturb one leaf; it transports a cool caress across my face—tansy in the air.

I no longer entertain the company of fear nor worry (it was always my decision) and feel a calming repose comfort my mind. You brought me back down to earth; I was distant for so long. You enchant through eloquence all whom you encounter, adorning even the most dismissive in passing with a cheerful grin—coaxing the same in return. Your lightest touch could command an army or tame the wildest thing; your character, like your soul, is inviolable and shall always be the archetype for intrepidness. How could one not love you?... my prime provocateur.

I arrived at a small clearing in the wood where an enchanted garden lay. The full moon had reached its apex in the starry sky and emitted unto the Earth a soft, angelic glow that covered the ground before me in a shroud of beaming serenity. A somnolent feeling overtook me, as my long perambulation had borne me to rest.

I laid up against a willow tree and observed the transcendently impressive array of flora that decorated this cloistered patch of land. An uncanny collection of ornamental variety it did possess. The outer perimeter was covered with lobelia and hibiscus, the inner circumference held trillium and gloxinia, all enclosing rows of majestic calla lilies, petunias, and African violets... the night hums with suppressed power; I can't help but wonder how so much magnificent beauty can exist in one world.

A nightingale arrives; a small thrush could not have been more welcome. Its sweet song fills the empty air. The songbird's lullaby calls at my eyes to close. I drift off to sleep.

I find myself standing in a candlelit room. As I turn, you appear before me—hand held out to take mine. Behind you—a dance floor; you beckon me to it. Off to the side sits a table with wine. You look ravishing in your evening gown of such taste—maddening curves under red satin and lace. A trio strikes tune—it's the tango for us; temptation all abounds. Hidden eyes watch in secret as we are pulled in to dance. As the violin, by its master, is bound for crescendo, our heartbeats quicken, ascending rapidly in confluence with each bracing note. Titillating sensations delivered through sound, coursing in sensuous waves through our veins. You, I think, descended from Seraphim—though a devilish look in your eyes; how such pleasure seems sin, harbored feelings within that bind you to me for all time.

I awoke from my dream to the splendor of the dawn, basking in the glorious warmth of the rising sun. You can feel the raw energy assimilating into all life; its nourishing properties penetrate in prolonged waves of residual radiation. Divine illumination draws strength, banishing the darkness and defeating its cold, compendious reach with besetting resplendence. The dawn is a superfluous wonderment, birthing again each morning, a restored vitalization and hope in another day that dreams will come true.

—A