Waiting for the Sun

On a cool beach early in the morning, there she stood. Just as elegant as ever. 78 years old and just as beautiful as the day they met.1

Unfortunately, she got separated from her man a couple years back. Yet here she was, waiting. Before he went on his way he whispered one last thing to her. "Wait for me on the coast. I'll be back by daybreak, my love."2

Now here she waited for two years. Everyday she wept and mourned. This day, though, was special. This was their anniversary. This day she did not cry. He called to her in her sleep. He woke her up and sent her on her way.3

Standing on the beach, listening to the tide roll peacefully in and out, she looked to the horizon expectantly. There were clouds, however. The clouds were blocking out the sunrise, but not for long. Soon the sun rose and peeked over the top and with sweet divine grace, a beam of light blinded her for a single moment.4

Then there he was. He was standing in the tide looking just as he did the day they met, with a simple peasant outfit, and sleeves and pantlegs rolled up. He walked towards her, shining like angel from heaven. She staggered back, and in her old age she fell weak and drained. She looked up and saw him smiling.5

"Need a hand there, milady?" he asked holding out his hand. She wanted to take his hand, but she was full of fear. He looked so heavenly. To touch such a being...6

"C'mon now. It's alright." He sounded just as he did before. He had this tone of voice like a kind summer breeze whispering secrets in your ear. So calming. So assuring. Needless to say, she forgot all her fears and took his hand.7

He helped her up, and romantically swept her off her feet. He slowly walked into the tide. And just as he appeared, in flash of light from the sun as it peeked through the clouds again, they left that beach for an endless one.