Vocation

My past still forms images in my mind’s memory.
I sit on a rock at dusk.
In the distance is the sound of laughter;
Male voices, female voices and sweet music.
The soft tingle of glass on glass and merriment.
In my mind the fantasies of being a lady of the world live on;
Images of a warm room,
And people dancing in each other’s arms
I am intoxicated by fun ecstasy.
And every time I remember this I am revisited by a soft voice
And the warm breath that gently brushed my ear
Whispering in divinity’s caress,
And how they mingled with the sound of dusk
And the song of the lone bird that sang somewhere amidst the green shrubs
I am not quite sure – but I think it was a cuckoo.
Only one thing remains certain:
I’ll never forget those words,
I’ll never forget them for they have since chauffered my life,
I’m sure, I’ll never forget that moment up on a rock at dusk.