Gabriele
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.
In Dreams
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.
Brief Encounter
"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.
Human
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
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.
Winter Solstice
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.
Aromatic Elixir
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.
My Gift
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.
Chances Are
"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.
Precipice
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.