I sat by the fire in the small, dimly lit restaurant, staring at the colorful vase of flowers adorning my table’s center. I was so mentally exhausted from the week of work that my mind could scarce think on anything except the glass of wine that would soon be mine. It was much needed to alleviate the stress running rampant through my body this evening. A young, flirtatious waiter had taken my drink order, but I had not given him a second glance, so preoccupied was I with the disaster of my workweek. It was hard to dwell on much of anything else.

An older gentleman approached my table with a bottle of Château Pape Clément Pessac-Léognan. I was treating myself tonight, and felt I had earned it. As the waiter poured a small amount of the aromatic wine into the crystal glass, I took note of his aged hands. They were strikingly beautiful in a less than usual way. One could easily see that he had used them for something more than serving wine over the long years; they were weathered and worn, much like his wrinkled face.

As I studed the hands that carefully grasped the expensive wine bottle, I was intrigued by the volume of character embodied in them. I wondered what work they had performed during all their years on this earth. They were riddled with protruding veins: it was as if I could feel the blood that pumped through each one.

Distracted, I forgot to taste the wine in front of me.

“Signorina,” the waiter prompted. “Would you prefer something else? Is the wine not to your liking?”

I was momentarily transfixed while I watched him rub his left index finger and thumb together as he awaited my response. Was this something he’d done nearly all of his life or merely a nervous response?

“My apologies. The wine is perfect,” I quickly offered after a sip of the red wine.

The waiter grasped the wine bottle with both hands, so carefully that I surmised he thought it an irreplaceable treasure. Tesoro mio. I smiled at the comparison. My treasure. Yes, this man appeared to treasure the wine as if it were a newborn babe in his care.

I noticed his fingers were long, lean, and elegant despite their evident rugged texture. It was more than obvious they had performed some type of manual labor prior to his work as a waiter, although I could not guess what it had been. Had he been a carpenter, a mason, a butcher, or even an artist? My mind filled with images of a life hard-lived and yet challengingly productive. No, this man had not lived a life of privilege.

“My name is Bella. Might I know yours?” I asked suddenly.

The waiter looked at me in surprise, but then he stood tall and made a respectful bow before he replied. “Sì, Signorina. My name is Gabriele. Gabriele de Rose.”

Gabriele. I knew that the name Gabriele was often associated with healing because of its reference to the Archangel Gabriel. At the thought, an unusual vision immediately crossed my mind: this man’s rugged, strong hands making contact with me and a profound peace ensuing.

I continued to watch beneath my lashes as Gabriele rested his hand ever so slightly on the edge of the table as if to steady himself. The scattered brown age spots on his hand was in stark contrast to the crisp, white table cloth and also revealed he was at least in his sixties. What on earth had propelled a man who obviously had worked most of his life to take a job as a waiter when he should be reaping the benefits of his previous labor? My heart suddenly plummeted, so grave was the concern that his life’s savings may have evaporated and led him to such a path. Furthermore, had I caught the trace a discernable tremor that ran lightly through his fingers. Was he ill? Oh, but I hoped not.

It was exceedingly odd to find such weathered hands so attractive, but still, I did. There was a timeless elegance and beauty of purpose exuded in every gesture or movement they made, including the rubbing together of the index finger and thumb. Like a moth drawn to a flame, I longed to reach out and touch him for some inexplicable reason, but I restrained the impulse as I knew it would be inappropriate and make him uncomfortable. Instead, I did something else.

“Hello, Gabriele. It’s very nice to meet you,” I said and extended my hand.

For a moment, he seemed surprised, but then his face broke into a smile that encompassed its entirety. His eyes began to twinkle, changing his appearance and making him appear years younger than the secrets revealed by his weathered, wrinkled hands. This man had surely been quite handsome in his former years.

“Hello, Signorina. It is very nice to make your acquaintance,” Gabriele said as he accepted my hand. "Please, enjoy your meal, Signorina. And I sincerely hope you will feel much better very soon, Isabella," he added. With another bow and a slight wink, he quickly headed to the rear of the restaurant, disappearing behind a door.

Amazed, I watched him walked away. How did he know how stressed I was feeling? And how did he know my given name was Isabella? I'd only given him 'Bella' when I'd introduced myself. I could still feel the warmth from his strong handshake. Endorphins had already begun to flow through my body, and the stress I felt was beginning to slowly dissipate. Perhaps the vision I'd experienced only moments earlier had not been a precipitous one. No, I was sure the fact this man’s name was Gabriele and that his hands were so beautifully made was not the least of coincidences.

I was still a bit confused as I looked down at my wine glass, but a smile began to suffuse my face; it reached all the way to my tippy toes. It was a good feeling after such a long week. Indeed, perhaps the week had not been such a dismal failure and just maybe my faith in the universe had been restored. Something unexpected and wonderful had occurred this evening, and I found myself on the receiving end of it all. It was not every day, after all, that one met an angel with wondrous, healing hands. And because of it, life suddenly seemed full of endless possibilities.

I’d love to saturate

Myself with the essence

Of you each and every

Moment of this life.

In dreams, I oft

Pretend I am the

Little pen clasped

Within your hand.

Please,

Envelope me

In the warmth of your

Long, lean fingers.

Curl them about me,

Encapsulate

And manipulate me

Until your task is done,

Then neatly place me

Inside the warmth

Of your jacket pocket,

Ever near to your

Beating heart.

There I would remain

With utter joy

And delight

Until my dying day.

You will always be the

Beginning and the end

Of what I desire

In our brief time.

To love you,

To be loved by you,

Is enough

In this life.

"Maybe in some parallel universe we found each other.....we are meant to run toward one another....chances are, I'll never know." Erin Van Vuren

Darkness lingers

Before the dawn

Of awareness and revelation.

I stretch out my hand

And touch the air.

I can feel it:

The vibration

Of a parallel universe.

*

From the other world

You step in, a seeming

Vision and not reality.

Yet, when my eyes

Reach yours,

I know the secret:

You are trespassing

Into my sphere of time.

*

For long moments

All thought is suspended,

I am transfixed

By your gaze.

Longing fills me,

I desire it all

But you are only mine for

A mere macrocosm in time.

*

Time's vibration

Crescendos, then settles.

You know it, too:

Here, wrapped within

Our private cosmos

We love and

Know each other

To the depths of our being.

*

But of a sudden,

A flash of light,

The earth trembles.

You are gone and

My heart falters.

Like grains of sand

Through fingers,

Our time has vanished.

*

Whispers, echoes –

Nothing more –

Remain in the dawn.

The brief eclipse

Of love so divinely felt

Only moments ago

Disperses in the morning air.

You aren't even a memory.

*

Parallel universe and

Star crossed lovers?

Still, we don’t recall

Each other’s visage,

Cannot search high and low

Throughout the universes

To find our destination:

Obscure, unfathomable love.

*

Thus, a moment

Is suspended in time.

The rarest opportunity

Escapes swiftly

Like the morning dew.

We are none the wiser

Nor will we ever know

The treasure that was missed.

Now and always, please just hold that happy thought, Peter. You are a symbol of all humankind: easily frightened, defensive, and then utterly, gut wrenchingly remorseful. Even still, you are, in fact, purity personified in your nature: a green flourishing pasture as well as a massive rock upon which so many will stand. You are chosen, anointed, and a gift most rare amongst all others. Look into yourself and always know from whence you came….and to where you will always venture forward.

Once upon a time,

I loved you

Like I love

The air I breathe.

Once upon a time,

You were mine

Through everything

For all eternity.

Once upon a time,

I knew you,

I felt you,

I understood you.

Once upon a time,

We connected

Like two

Colliding stars.

Once upon a time

Has become

Another lifetime ago,

No fairy tale ending.

Blessed be the

Ashes of our love,

Like dead flowers in the

Desolate garden of my heart.

Just another winter’s day

A crisp, cold wind whispers

Nestling in the trees

Until it swooshes

And whistles

Rattling the house.

You, child of winter, are at peace.

Inhale.

The aroma swirls,

Tickles your senses.

Clear, crisp

Peppermint tea.

It soothes

And opens the mind

To endless possibilities,

Tastes like

A winter day

Wrapped in sunshine.

The essential essence of awareness.

Virtuoso of my heart

Always creating a magical beat

Listening, adoring, caring

Encompassing,

Narrowing my spinning world

Tilting it sideways

Into oblivion.

Never,

Ever faltering.

Splendid counterpart to my soul.

Divine gift,

Abiding love.

You are mine.

"Maybe in some parallel universe we found each other.....we are meant to run toward one another....chances are, I'll never know." Erin Van Vuren

Darkness lingers

Before the dawn

Of awareness and revelation.

I stretch out my hand

And touch the air.

I can feel it:

The vibration

Of a parallel universe.

*

From the other world

You step in, a seeming

Vision and not reality.

Yet, when my eyes

Reach yours,

I know the secret:

You are trespassing

Into my sphere of time.

*

For long moments

All thought is suspended,

I am transfixed

By your gaze.

Longing fills me,

I desire it all

But you are only mine for

A mere macrocosm in time.

*

Time's vibration

Crescendos, then settles.

You know it, too:

Here, wrapped within

Our private cosmos

We love and

Know each other

To the depths of our being.

*

But of a sudden,

A flash of light,

The earth trembles.

You are gone and

My heart falters.

Like grains of sand

Through fingers,

Our time has vanished.

*

Whispers, echoes –

Nothing more –

Remain in the dawn.

The brief eclipse

Of love so divinely felt

Only moments ago

Disperses in the morning air.

You aren't even a memory.

*

Parallel universe and

Star crossed lovers?

Still, we don’t recall

Each other’s visage,

Cannot search high and low

Throughout the universes

To find our destination:

Obscure, unfathomable love.

*

Thus, a moment

Is suspended in time.

The rarest opportunity

Escapes swiftly

Like the morning dew.

We are none the wiser

Nor will we ever know

The treasure that was missed.

Do not hesitate.

It only comes but once.

You feel it move,

Permeating, vibrating.

It’s in the air you breathe,

Every particle of dust,

Every movement made,

And every shiver felt.

*

Do not hesitate.

A rare opportunity awaits.

This moment will not occur

Nor cross your path twice.

Grab it tightly,

Clasp it to your bosom,

And run wildly

Toward the unknown.

*

Do not hesitate.

A rare glimpse

Of love’s fortuitous happiness

Miraculously chooses you.

Yes, you….

Standing amidst your doubts.

Don’t pause overmuch

Or linger in indecisiveness.

*

Do not hesitate.

The chance is nigh

Within your grasp.

Which path will you choose

As you teeter totter

On the cusp of love?

Stretch out your hand,

Open the door.

*

Do not hesitate.

You should realize

What lingers on the precipice.

Unbridled joy and love

Could be yours

If you but beckon

Them with all sincerity

And with your soul.

*

Do not hesitate.

Be emboldened

Until at long last

The universe will be yours.

Idolize seconds spent

In spinning evolution

For into the rare eclipse

Of love will you fall.