Visit our Bookstore
Home | Fiction | Nonfiction | Novels | |
Innisfree Poetry | Enskyment Journal | International | FACEBOOK | Poetry Scams | Stars & Squadrons | Newsletter



By Moress Williams, Jr


Click here to send comments

Click here if you'd like to exchange critiques


            I awoke to find myself in what could best be described as an oval shaped room.  The walls of this room where a shade of white that I have only seen in pictures of the purest ivory.  I did not know how or why I found myself there.  I simply knew that I was in that one particular place at that one time.  As soon as I had gained a bearing on my new surroundings, I noticed that I was not alone here.  There were others here with me.

            The others were dressed in what could best be described as neo-Victorian garb.  The gentlemen wore snappy black or white tuxedos.  While the women were adorned in with grandiose gowns that fell somewhere in the midst of antique antebellum and modern design. The part covering the upper body being modestly alluring with the hem falling anywhere between the ankles and the lower thigh, depending on the woman wearing it.  This made the women seducingly allure, though with the utmost sense of class.

            The others were people of all shapes, sizes and colors.  There were even various ages.  With the children running around playing childish games, while the adults were engrossed in converse spread out amongst groups comprised of various people of the aforementioned features.

            What disturbed me most about this room and its inhabitants was the fact that everyone here was happy.  The children were laughing and running circles around the groups of various adults engrossed in jovial conversation.

            Now I have been in scenarios like this before and what makes this one different is the fact that the people are truly happy and seemed to be actually listening to what each other were saying. When I say that they are truly happy I mean that they are not simply smiling and nodding with what is being said because of social etiquette.  Its because they actually see where whomever is speaking is coming from.  Something that is sorely missing in human interaction in the mundane world we inhabit.  I mean these people where really digging what the other was saying.

            It was such thought that I was dwelling on when I heard that voice.  That voice belonging to the only occupant of the room who was actually sitting.  Sitting down in an old oak rocking chair that reminded me of the one I used to help my grandfather make before his passing many years before.

            It was a voice that it seemed that only I could hear.  For the room's other occupants were still engaged in conversation.  Completely oblivious to the melodious melody emanating from that old chair located in the closest thing to a corner that could be discerned in the circular space of the room.

            There singing as if it were the last song she would ever sing, was an elderly black lady looking to be in her late 70s to early 80s.    She was wearing a modest black gown. The song she sung was an old hymn that reminded me of the old wooden church in the country that I had attended weekly as a youth, and had long since abandoned in the apathetic lethargy that we know as adulthood.  These are the words she sang:


                                                “One fine day when this life is over,

                                                  I’ll fly away.

                                                  I’ll fly away, oh Lordy,

                                                  I’ll fly way.”


            I am standing there transfixed in her song when some unknown force diverts my attention toward my right.  It is then that it occurs to me that I am not the only one who hears the old lady’s song.

            She stands there, like me, off to herself.  Neither engaged in conversation, nor any longer noticing anything else in that room but the old lady in the rocking chair and the song she is singing.

            She wore a dress the color of midnight blue that clung enticingly to her voluptuous frame.  Though from where I was standing I could only see her profile.  Which was more than what I needed to be entranced by her.

            Then suddenly, she turned and looked at me.   She looked at me with eyes that took my breath away with the force of a tornadic wind.   Sending my thoughts into I psychic maelstrom of emotion and feeling.  

            I was, simply put, mesmerized by the sheer beauty and warmth her eyes projected toward me.  My right foot suddenly gained sentience of its own and stepped toward her.  Naturally, my left foot followed suit.  For within the fraction of moments I found myself within arms reach of this ethereal goddess in blue.  

            Some people say that the eyes are windows to the soul.  In her case, I sincerely beg to differ.  Her eyes were not simple windows, more like mirrors.   Mirrors that obviously reflected what she was seeing in my eyes:  a lifetime.

            A lifetime full of both joy and pain.  A lifetime of endless broken hearts, shattered dreams, and unfulfilled promises.  A lifetime of  casting our feelings aside for the sake of others.  A lifetime recently entrenched in lethargy and despair.  A lifetime whose Pandora’s box has finally and sadly been emptied.  A life that had finally given up hope.

            I took my right hand, cupping her face, and then drew her nearer to me.  An action to which she gave little, if not any, defiance.  It was then that she and our brought our lips together and kissed.

            Throughout my life, I have kissed several women many times.  Some of which there was true emotion, some where it was in the lustful insanity of primal desire.  However, none have I kissed as I kissed her.

            For while thus embraced, I did something that I had never done before:  I opened my eyes.  I opened my eyes and it was then that I saw her eyes were open also.   From her eyes flowed tears.   Tears of sadness?  Yes, but not complete sadness.

            There were also tears of joy. Joy at having finally lived to experience this moment.   Sadness, because something told us both that the moment would not last very long.  Though joy ruled out the sadness for we also knew that forever and always we would have that one moment.

            That one moment we were completely aware of our inner and outer feelings.  In that moment, while so close to her physical body, I could actually feel her heart beating in perfect synch with mine own.  They were like raging jackhammers to the chest cavity trying to escape and finally connect.  Hence, becoming the one that ancient Pythagoras* theorized of  centuries ago.

            Our kiss was broken by a loud thunderous voice.  A voice that, unlike the elderly ladies’ voice, also garnered the attention of the other inhabitants of the room as well.  Along with this new voice came a blinding light emanating from a doorway that I had not noticed earlier.

            The voice spoke to us saying, “Come, for it is time.  Time for each and every one of you to walk to path for which you are destined.”

            Still holding her in my arms, I fixed my mouth to speak.  To tell her how much I did not want this moment to end.   Her response was taking one finger and placing it on my lips to silence me. 

            She then smiled.  Smiled the most beautiful smile that I have ever seen.  She then broke our embrace and placed her arm in mine.   I glanced at her and smiled, having comprehended her want of silence.  Smiling, she and I walked hand and hand into the doorway and its blinding light……….




            It was at this point that I found myself, once again, in my solitary room.  Sitting up in bed, staring around in bewilderment trying to figure out what had just transpired. Be it a dream, a vision, or something altogether different.  The one thing that I do know is that I experienced it.

            I experienced meeting that true soulmate that Pythagoras discussed in his teachings.  The fact that I can hardly recall the distinct features of her face only fuels my desire to seek her out, knowing that know matter what:  I will indeed someday find her.

            You see, now I have hope where there was once none.  Hope that I all I have endured and all that I will have to, will someday lead me to her.   Her.  The one who will complete me and in doing so complete herself so that we will both be stronger. 

            I will continue my search.  Even though I may come across some that I perceive to be she and be disappointed, I will endure nonetheless.  I know that she is out there, and if it takes me the rest of my life;   I will indeed find her.  Nothing less could I ever find myself settling for, nor do I think I should.




(Notes: For those of you unfamiliar with Pythagoras.  Pythagoras was an ancient Greek philosopher best known for his mathematical theorems.  Though he also theorized that man and woman were once one asexual being.  The gods thought this being to be way to be a potential rival and hence dispersed it into two separate parts:  Male and Female.

Pythagoras felt that it should be a goal of every human being to seek out his/her adjoining part so that they could come together forming a powerful ethereal being, though it inhabits two physical bodies.  Hence, the familiar phrase: soulmate”.



Widget is loading comments...