Gate of Fate


If there was ever a moment of absolute truth.
She were so small, wrapped against the cold.
I saw her face amongst thousands.
Feelers of whispers raced to me, to her.
Threads of knowing warmth
Tied at last, above the crowds.
Her hands, those hands, clasped lapels,
Eyes moist, welcoming the final gate of fate.
No longer did I walk, suitcase at my feet,
The terminal turned silent, still
All but her, receded, clouded, distanced.
To see the jewel, the life-blood of my hopes,
With eyes that would behold her forever
I glanced at my hands, hands that would hold her
Her timid smile broke into a grin,
Then full blown laughter, as she fought her way
To the man, who would forever embrace
Her body, mind and soul, protecting, loving.
She stopped in front of me, arms by her sides,
I looked down at a glowingly cold and warm
Pretty face, that looked up, pleadingly beautiful.
Future seconds, minutes, days, life
Scrambled, fought for some sort of orderly queue.
Do I gently kiss this delight?
Do I take her hand, go down on one knee
And vow my never ending love?
Do I hug her, pick her up, swing her around?
Do I hold her face, the face
That fronts a spirit of Angels?
Do I allow my lips to brush her eyes, those eyes,
Her nose, her cheeks, her lips, the lips
That spill words of savage beauty?
I said, “You must be ………….?”
She softly replied, “I love you, so very much.”
I took one tiny hand and whispered
“You are my miracle, to be cherished forever.”
I lightly kissed her ear, picked up my suitcase,
We walked side by side, leaving the terminal
And stepped through the golden gate of fate,
Into our future.

I can quite easily put myself in the place of this 'she' in this poem, Sir Rusty. What a lovely meeting! Are you planning this event for the near future?

Love and Hugs,

Alice