© June 6, 2016 by Swami X
After serving a tour of duty
As her husband
Where he provided
love and loyalty
romance and respect
compassion and care
He leaves to serve his country
Their last day together
They lay in bed
And reminisce first times
talking on the phone
meeting
making love
saying “I love you”
Their first
music concert
road trip
vacation
And their plans
To share a whole life
Of “firsts” together
He had left many times before
But always returned
This time he goes missing
He is lost
…but not forgotten
When she first receives word
That he isn’t coming home
An earthquake
Shatters the foundation
of what she took
as her forever
Her heart cracks
And releases a wail
Of devastation
The first night
She lights a candle in her window
Not mourning
But a vigil
Awaiting his return
she remains hopeful
without expectation
Days become weeks
…become months
…become years
Lighting candles
Becomes her duty
She is a soldier
Who follows orders
Without complaint
serving something
greater than herself
At first light
She calls out his name
And waits for a reply
But is greeted only
with melted wax
a burnt wick
a silent home
She closes her eyes
And imagines him saying,
“Good morning, Beautiful,”
Feeling the same quiver in her heart
as the first time
those words
entered her ears
and weakened her knees
Each night when she goes to sleep
Each morning when she awakes
And all the hours in between
She thinks on her love
She has chosen not to remarry
Her first marriage being her last
for her heart is bound
to him forever
If he is buried underground
her heart will turn to dust
If he is buried at sea
it will sink to the ocean floor
If he is burned
her heart will become ash
And if he ever returns to her
only then will she place her heart
back inside of her chest
where it will beat just for him
And soon her memory
Starts to fade
She needs pictures
to remember the details of his face
Her journals
to remember the nuances of his ways
And lighting candles
Becomes a ritual
Whose original meaning of hope
Is long forgotten
She is a soldier
Following commands
without question
A mere private
Listening to the orders given by
Her Commanding Officer
And finally her aged body
Lays in her bed
Cold and lonely
Ready to leave
the black and white Earth
whose colorful partner
had disappeared
with the brushes
that painted her world magical
She questions
“What have I lived for?”
And his face appears in her mind
Her numb heart revitalizes
Pumping love through her veins
And a spark in her eyes
And she remembers
Right before her flame
like the candles
Flickers out for the last time
…and she doesn’t die alone
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