By Christopher R. Whalen
All you need do is appear.
I am in a constant state of looking for you.
I pay close attention to every new face that I see, as it might be yours.
I listen to voices in a crowd, even when I cannot see the one talking, as this might be the voice of my beloved, of you.
As I round every corner, I am always ready.
I am the patient lone keeper of a lighthouse on the most remote island, who strains his eyes each day and scans the horizon.
I am alone, and I am looking, and I am waiting.
I lower my telescope just long enough to rub my eyes.
The Love light within my soul burns like the sun’s rays filling my Fresnel lens.
My beacon is visible far and wide.
All but you are drawn to it.
I raise my closed fist up to my mouth, and emit a slight cough into it.
I raise the collar on my coat to thwart the sudden salt and mist filled wind.
I lick my dry, chapped lips.
I slowly inhale,
I slowly exhale.
I unconsciously shift my feet.
I raise the telescope to my fatigued left eye.
There are a few moments of sunlight remaining in this day, as the sun races to sleep behind the western horizon.
As I do each day, I peer through the layers of glass until the very last magnified rays of light have gone.
I slowly retract my telescope and place it back in its case and carry it, and myself, inside.
I tend to my light one last time before retiring,
in case you travel at night.
I put on my bedclothes and lie in bed,
my hands behind my head, my eyes studying the plaster ceiling.
I slowly inhale.
I slowly exhale.
I have done all that I could, as I do each day to find you and for you.
The sounds of the wind, the waves against the rocks, and the constant turning of the gears above me have become my lullaby.
I sleep and dream.
I dream that……
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