These things I recall with such vividness and such detail,
it’s as though I am once again gazing out my favorite bedroom window
upon the Grand Canal of Venice and into the bright haze of morning.
On the broad window sill…
I see the masks we wore with such revelry,
deep into the night and through countless water-colored Carnivales.
The Rothschild crystal champagne glasses from our wedding night.
Our favorite vintage Bordeaux from Chateau Haut-Marbuzet.
Oh yes… the purple writing plume that recorded with such abandon
so many of our letters of young love to each other.
The shimmering golden silks that framed the tall arched window,
and would breathe in so gently the salt-seasoned breeze off the Canal.
And just beyond the window, the heavy candlesticks we would set out,
to guide our friends through the night to our little palazzo.
I still hear the happy chirping of our paired finches who,
along with the intoxicating aroma of dark Vienna roast-
would welcome without fail our each and every morning in Venice.
I can still hear the song-filled voices of the gondoliers…
ferrying couples to and fro, and the sounds of the market below.
So many are the treasures, the discoveries, the amber-tinted memories
the true and everlasting riches of a lifetime.
Ahh, morning in Venice…
why should you bring this tear to my eye?
By Julian James Wilde, @ 2009, from “The Dream Oracle.”
GoddessLilith
...Holding my breath in awe and ecstasy…