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In the Meadows

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My dearest Rifkele,

I can still smell your perfume.
I am reminded of walking through a garden,
Freshly-snipped weeds,
Water and air
And a taste of the morning dew.

I can still smell the flowers.
I am reminded of gathering the stems
You held in your hand,
And the pollen
That fell from your fingertips.

I can still breathe in the scent of the rain.
I am reminded of the night when we felt young,
The drops so light,
Fresh as the grass in the meadows.

I can still feel the rain.
I am reminded of dancing in the downpour,
Cold, harsh streams of water
Rushing down my arms,
Soaking my dress
And seeing your hair drenched by the storm.

I can still hear your voice.
I am reminded of your joyful cries
As we ran through the rain,
Not a care in the world,
All inhibitions abandoned.

It was then,
Beneath the clouds,
That we let go
Of our connections to the earth,
Only to reach out again
To one another.

White nightgowns
Clung to our skin,
Weighed down
By the rain.

We laughed together,
Danced together,
Cried together.

A kiss from your lips
Made the spring rain seem suddenly cold
As the world stopped around us.

I think it was in that moment
When we first discovered love.

That night, it was just us
And the storm.

I long to relive it each day.

Everytime I close my eyes,
I breathe in,
Trying to smell the rain
On the grass,
In the meadows,
In your hair.

Sweet, gentle Rifkele.
Hair brushed by my fingers,
Soul touched by the song,
Heart warmed by our embrace.

Now, I ask of you: Be the clouds that grace my skies

Forevermore and always,
I will be yours.

 

Manke