Day 70.

I would have circumnavigated the globe on a bicycle if necessary, to get to her side. I was by now more in love than I can ever remember experiencing. This was both ominous and appealing; it became a lovely fantasy dwelling in the vicinity of my soul.

I found also that this new experience opened in me the door of inspiration. Words began to mingle with paper from a mind obsessed. They were not lifeless words; they had been born in the womb of love and nurtured in the breast of anticipation. Every word was plucked from the garden of lofty sentiments where days are passed like dreams and the night spent contemplating the wonder of this blast of ecstasy. As I wrote to her and of her every day I wondered if she would read my words and scorn them or whether she would listen with her heart and feel them caressing her soul. Whatever her response, they came with all the sincerity that I could muster. Every atom of my life was poured into those words for she had opened to me the enigma of love by her tenderness. In doing this she had whispered in my ear the words that began the ode to a deeper spiritual life.

Would she then take them to her heart, or would I, wounded by her sweetness, become another tragedy in this world of wordless sorrows?

Tell me, who among us does not melt with yearning for that uncanny moment when your entire being is abruptly altered and transfigured, when your inmost depths expand beyond comprehension and you are enhanced and deepened because of this delicious excitement. All this I endured despite the heartache of trying to keep it a secret. It was, however, an excitement that remained undesired and un-responded to.

She had caught me unawares by materializing like a mirage in the summer of my life, as if dressed in a silken gown, tending to my solitude a poetic significance never before encountered. How I now longed for her to transform the loneliness of my days into intimacy and the silence of my nights into songs, where we, together, might sing the spell-binding tune on the lips of life.

How I was baffled when I heard love whisper into the ear of my soul. My life had been empty, bleak and barren, like Adam’s stupor in paradise before Eve. Then she appeared like a pillar of light. She became the Eve of my heart, filled with mysteries and wonders. She led me into the garden of my love by her purity and amiability. I was in love with being in love!

Would then befall me what befell the first man who was banished from the garden of his love? Will the vicissitudes of time exile me beyond the verdant pastures of happiness? Will my aspirations vanish in the mist of abated joy and the swamp of lonely memories? Please no! 489