She called my name. Although my eyes could not see, I knew she smiled as I greeted her. Soft blond hair lightly flowed with a radiance that came from her heart. The color of her eyes a mystery as she carried herself closer to me. My guitar fell silent and the lake's shore was our horizon, hidden from the center of this universe. We were alone in the company of our mother's nature.
For a moment we did nothing. The light faded and I could see her clearly. A pretty woman, trying to let go of the hardness of life, clinging to her sensitive perceptions, with gentle strength and courage. We began to talk of feelings, emoted throughout time, but appreciated by only a few who have listened to light reflecting around them. Our good times were as a clear noon sky. Alive in brightness. Our bad times as the dark of a cold, cloudy midnight. Stark as an ageless, dead tree on an oasis, dried and unused. As we listened, those in between times of everyday living became the sunrises and sunsets of our lives gone by. Their beauty carelessly overshadowed by the blur of all the dramas we had caused. We knew ourselves as love and loved each other as ourselves. I smiled as she walked away. The voice of my guitar caught the wind. I knew I would always listen to my sunrises and sunsets...evermore still.