The Second Meeting
One afternoon in this western wood
When all is bathed in a cool dark shade
My mortal eyes are surprised to see
The single Elf sitting under a tree.
He looks at me for several heart beats
This tall fair being not from this time
And my heart aches again when I see
The pool of tears welling in his eyes.
Then he sighs and looks away from me
But no move does he make to leave here
So I quietly sit down next to him
Hoping I could bring him some comfort.
But words failed to come to me just then
And I wonder if I should speak at all
For what does one say to an immortal
Who has seen much of this earth’s past?
So I sit there quietly watching
While he picks a nearby white flower
And hands to me this delicate bloom
With a sad smile now on his kind face.
Graciously I accept this small gift
And return his smile with one of mine
But in my heart I still ache for him
While tears begin to form in my eyes.
Then the Elf slowly gets to his feet
And pauses there looking down at me
Softly he says “Please do not weep for me.”
Before turning and walking away.
So I sit here long after he has gone
While staring down at his small gift
As I vainly try to stop my tears
From raining down on this white flower.