Iridescent Blue

Iridescent Blue

                   When I was a young lad awkwardly struggling through all the fears of adolescence, I found myself confronted with a woman. Having only recently discovered their presence on this planet had something more to do with than pulling pigtails and the irrational fear of catching cooties. I was struck, slayed in my awe of her beauty. She was in fact an older woman. In retrospect an older woman of the ripe old age of possibly eighteen summers.

         Years have come and gone since that summer on the beach. However, her iridescent blue eyes and jet-black hair have remained safely tucked away in the attic of my mind. The secret treasures of special and private moments hidden away, viewed only rarely in the often harried and whirlwind of existence which is my life. Her gentle attitude, smooth white skin, and graceful movements have remained. Enhanced, I am sure, by the years gone by. Though we never exchanged a word, she unknowingly became the standard of feminine beauty to a young boy.

         Few of us ever escape those whirling years unscathed and I’ve been no exception. Nor have those which have whizzed pass left me unaltered. I have managed through time as best as I might. Accumulating both treasures and torments of the heart, evidenced by the growing number of lines upon my face.
She may have remained, sleeping undisturbed in the attic of my mind until all my suns set, had I not once again, stumbled into iridescent blue.

         Twenty years have come and gone, leaving me with and education only time can afford. Hoping now my ability of speech and charm was not purchase with innocence and integrity, for I sense a loss in both accounts. Which I hope are offset by wisdom and experience.

         So, what can I say of this radiant beauty so recently returned into my life? That I was just as awestruck as an adolescent youth? Inadequate, regardless of how true. That I now I have found not only the standard of feminine beauty but of maturity and grace? Or simply life has afforded a space in time to be a young boy again. Unwounded and unscathed, loving and loved, lost in the sheer joy of touching hearts in a cold and uncaring world.

         Alas, life’s designs do not often afford the luxury of having things go the way we would prefer. In this sadly brief encounter, I found all I have not learned and learned of all I have not yet found. Sitting here watching her walk away, I wonder if I have known anything at all. Except perhaps, feeling once again forever affected by iridescent blue.