There are moments I arrive in with an aching sadness, a feeling fleeting, but deep...like wind chimes. At first I wonder what I'm not facing on my daily journey that is eager to trouble my heart. But there is nothing. I stroll back to my very explored childhood, but the trail does not meander from there. And then, it returns to me in a waking dream, a place I once lived and loved...

There is a soft warm breeze, thick and playful. It is afternoon and I recline on an opulent veranda, surrounded by fruit trees I cannot name. By the edge stands a man talking, but I hear his features, not his words. His skin sings like a gypsy dancer, wild and free. Black hair shimmies down his back, ringing with the laughter of waves and the quiet hum of tide pools. But his eyes are glory blue in which green doves of peace wing by as sparks of secret whispers chant my heartsong.

Then the dream fades, but stays more real than my current surroundings. I am never alone. When others ask why I don't remarry I make noises they'll accept as reasons. But the truth stands on a veranda and wind chimes know his name.