I went and gazed at the path we trod to bring us here.
I ran back to the spring where the first seeds of love were planted, and left for the rain of our friendship to succor. I stepped forward into the late summer, and saw the green shoot burst from the ground and watched it’s weaving. I climbed down the mountain and saw it growing amidst the hard rocks in autumn’s chill, struggling in the fiercest storms…
Then I saw a wonder… the plant, so hardened from those trials, stood in the deepest winter and broke forth into blossom. Unabashed, it did not deign the frost worth notice.
I walked back to where we stand, in some sort of fairy winter, where there is all the brilliance of the snow, but none of the cold. I see that there is still much ahead, but the scars that mark us have all turned into the finest gold.
Oh your lovely words… the story you told. I look at it all and think, what would have been lost if you had not been so inclined? It is fair, this love of ours, like your lovely skin.
It makes me cry to see how it all worked out. How at times we slowed our time together, how we would rush back wher really need, how all the time our hearts were changing and becoming fit to receive this amazing love.
You once asked if you would look back and say, if I had not done this or that would this have happened. We’ll never know, but I am satisfied.