A Secret Love

“Once I had a secret love, that lives within the heart of me. All too soon my secret love, became impatient to be free. So I shout it from the highest hills. Even told the golden daffodils. At last my heart is an open door, my secret love is no secret anymore?” ---Secret Love, as Sung By George Michael

This is supposed to be a Valentine’s Day posting, something to think about, to sipped coffee over, and mull over the inanities about it all. But it came a day late while I weigh in if I should talk about it or not. For this might be a brimming scandal, where such is scandalous even to those who sell their souls to the devil.

What was in my mind was something about a secret love that never wanes and never fades as it goes on haunting my heart and soul like a runaway train that heads for nowhere and goes on traveling like a ghost ship in some dark and foggy side of the ocean.

She was like a jewel among the forest of stones and rocks, a lily within the pond. Every now and then I think about her, and in my mind she becomes a tale that knows no end and needs more retelling and retelling until there are no more words to speak and until there are no more tears to shed. My soul at times would scream in the strangest hours of the night but my voice wouldn’t appear. It perhaps lacked the courage and fortitude to declare its imminence and purpose.

I am trapped like a prisoner within the gaze of her eyes. There were moments in the pasts when she was just around me and near me, that I have looked intently and fiercely into those eyes, for moments that had seemed to last for an eternity, and I wonder what miracle is there in the world that her beauty is such a rekindling fire to this turgid spirit.

Am I the sinner? Am I the saint? Who am I then when I was laid before her like a sacrificial lamb to the gods of an ancient cult?

I have before spoken to myself for countless times and in endless days and asked myself if I am indeed worthy of these emotions that I hide inside me like a long lost treasure from the desert of Egypt. And now I have spoken about it to you after a hundred years of solitude and after myriad leaves of remembrances.

I wonder if I’d ever see her again or if I may hear her voice once more. And I keep on hoping and wondering, till now.

Is this what we mean by a secret love?

*Credits: Photo of "Tree" was downloaded from Free.Foto.Com. Site Here.