Perhaps it can't be an answer, it never does when the heart aches, when feet can't walk the great distances of absence or hear the murmur of silence, but he couldn't qeep quite at "The ghost and the Wanderer" could he?
When I turned around there was you, half way raised hand maybe afraid to wave goodbye from the front yard of the house,
I tipped my hat telling my eyes to remember that little one among the ruins of what once was a paradise, respected by everything and everyone but for man.
I needed to go to find fortune so I could restore all that was lost under the sadistic fires that consumed every shred of the cotton fields, and the meager sustenance just enough for one I couldn’t bear to share and see hunger in your eyes, and taking you with me will have exposed you to greater perils than those of an empty house.
I was counting with Mammy until I could return.
The pursue took me everyday a little longer away and three horses after I felt ill and wanted to return because I thought that the end was near and wished to be home.
But, how selfish I could had been, bringing myself back to your arms and then really leave forever, I couldn’t it to you, to us; so after, by the Lords will, I could travel again I just did it, never forgetting you, remembering always to look back, and even if you weren’t there my eyes could see you still, with that vacillant waving little fingers and it gave me strength to go forward.
Nights, my head on the saddle, looking at the stars and wishing that you were looking at them that same moment and could read my thoughts that were blinking from them down to you.
Nights, sleeping, in my dreams I would gallop through the forest that follows the Santee river from the place of its birth until it melts with the seas at Charleston, and I will see you aimlessly threading on the wet sands leaving that lovely small track for me to follow and calling my name, you couldn’t se me but I was there.
Always I am there.
And if a drop falls in your face…look up, there are no clouds and no rain, just one of those stars send you one of my full of love tears, so painful is the need to touch you.
Don’t you despair, the day is coming, when you don’t need to wait anymore and goodbye will be replaced with pillow talks until dawn.
So few of such romantic souls left now, some still riding in circles lost in the forever, but the Magnolia trees still blooming, it's tough to be on the losing side, isn't it. You my friend, have the Jasmine scented language of the south.
Bless You! Jasmin Horst
