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The dance

Written by Mary Sandor in English -

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Last night I dreamt about you again. It was the same dream I’ve had for a long time now.


Travelling atop fluffy white clouds into the vastness of the azure universe, I am searching for you. My body turns and twists as the ethereal winds move me forward, deeper into eternity. I call your name. I implore you:

“Come to me, oh please, come back to me.”

And there you are. There you are! Your hands reach out toward me, for me. I am in your arms now, holding you, dancing with you, one with you. Do I hear music as I waltz with you now, or is that only the joyous rhythm of my heart?

You hold me close. I inhale the scent of you. Oh, the scent of you, the almost forgotten scent of you…

We dance in wild abandon, and I don’t ask where have you been, why you had left. I won’t break this magic with questions that matter no longer. You are back.

Who are we, swirling together in unison with land and sky, amid the caressing whiteness of fluffed clouds? Are we young, are we old? It does not matter. The only thing matters that we found each other once again.


I wake up slowly with a smile on my face, eyes closed, my whole being still the captive of that dream. I reach out a hand toward your side of the bed, looking for yours to hold, as we did upon awakening for the past 50 years. My hand touches the cold sheets, and then travels up to your pillow. I try to feel you, but the pillow is too smooth, without crease or indentation, without life.

I am fully awake now, and know I can never see you, never meet you again.

I think of my memories, the memories of you and a quiet tear rolls down my face. With a sigh I get up from my bed to face my day.

“Don’t cry for me.” you said that last time we had together.

I try my best darling. I spend time with the children, and know I’m very lucky to be with them still. I see our friends and, of course, I often think of you.                     

The winter is wearing away now; the winds of spring are in the air. Soon I’ll be planting flowers on your grave.

Still, I look forward with much pleasure to that time, when, on the wings of abstract dreams my soul unites with yours, and we will be dancing together once again amongst the stars.

Till tonight, my love.


Mary Sandor, Mar.-6-10

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