Did the query I sent
distract you? You needn’t have answered then. Agony. You were driving -- and
then you crashed. And now, the day we were to meet, you are lying in bad shape
in a coma, too many miles away. I have not even seen your face. Nonetheless,
our love burst in the virtual realm like a geyser of midnight suns. Gritty
health hurdles were cleared. The treasured day of meeting was finally near.
Then a cruel twist of time reared its ugly incident. How can I reach you, love,
in your twilight state? I can only emanate healing heart will. You were already
weakened by recent surgery. We had assumed the high mantle of romantic destiny.
Untouchable grace, beauty, passion. One attention glitch ditched the dear date
divine. I pray you awaken soon on the way to whole. Holy is the Love we found.
Holy is your soul’s sojourn. Holy is the moment beckoning for greater gravitas
in the hollow halls of evanescent human business. Martyr not to velocity’s
random dangers, my sweet love. Heal back into tomorrow’s rising sun.