Without A Face

On a night in my past, when my innocence yet tarnished,
the moon rose to the summit of the midnight sky;
A sliver of silver light illuminates a bedroom of pinkish hue.
As the growing light passed through the hours of dark,
soft shadows stole silently across the soft faces
of fabric-stitched expressions and fur covered bodies;
Dolls lifeless in the dead of night,
yet alive in the sweet imagination of a child
so alone, aside from a handful of fanciful desires,
of love and happiness, and forever after,
soon to be awoken into the restlessness of understanding,
by the blessing of a maiden moon.
A dream became:

The sun rose to a fine spring day,
with wisps of delicate clouds
decorating the deep blue of a perfect sky.
The winds, tickling across the green earth,
carried the scents of blooming wildflowers.
There, in the distance, ran a trickling stream,
shaded by the drooping vines of weeping willows -
fat with hundreds of rings  that mark the years in flawless precision -
and bordered by fields of grass,
colored a more vibrant green than the most envious of greens,
and tended by the hand of Mother Nature alone.
He stood there, a man with no face,
beside the trickling stream, aging willows, and green, green grass -
Onyx black hair dancing with the tickling winds,
with eyes I could never see -
Hands rough from a love for the untamed wild,
with a smile I couldn’t imagine -
An imposing stance, fashioned by absolute confidence,
With a laugh I so desperately wanted to hear.
And when his calloused hands ascended in a silent beckoning,
and I gave my heart to him,
trusting in his loving eternity...

The world turned dark, no longer day.
The clouds and blue sky were nothing more than a bare white ceiling.
The air as still as death, and scented of dusty corners.
The distance blocked by a rose tinted wall.
There was no stream, no willows,
no grass of envious green.
No promised eternity wrapped in the arms of him -
The man of my dreams.
The man in my heart.
The man with a face I could not see.

A child’s fantasy, broken; jaded before a single touch.