If you look to the sky tonight, you will find a fresh, dark, summer sky. Soon to be July sky. The air is perfect. Not even a breeze. It’s as if God has taken a second to stop breathing down on LA, His big moon eye staring from on high, lighting the night, igniting my soul. I bend neck and throw a gaze to the night ceiling, hoping to find the canvas of stars that returns each night. I find one, maybe two, or three. It’s one of those nights when, if you introduced your eyes to the stars and lost yourself for a moment, you too would become a poet for a night. Hollywood is a city that switches on at night like a flame of neon lights. But I know that somewhere up in that black roof is a swirling, twirling infinity of stars singing songs of love and love. Palm trees wave their hands at me from the distance. Their hands have twenty, maybe twenty-one fingers. I know this only because one night not too long ago, I stole away in the night like a boy in search of first love, only to tread into a neighbors garden and cut off a single palm leaf for the woman I love. I wrote her a poem on it for her birthday. I’m not one for stealing, but that night there was no question. I was being guided and sparked by the fuel and rhythm of love and I wasn’t going to stop till I got that palm leaf for the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Little lights blink and whisper from the homes in the hills like ink on lonely paper. Homes the size of small grocery stores scatter and paint the hills of movie stars and poets, dreamers and CEO’s. Big checks blinking from the distance.
And as I sit and stare, lost in the beauty of the night, I still find that I am not completely me. The lights, the calm 10:30 air, the palm trees clapping their hands in acoustic symphony miles away…it’s all beautiful in a magical way, but I am still without something tonight. I am still without someone tonight. My eyes see God’s artwork painted from east to west across a city of dreams and imagination, but my heart still aches and craves and longs for someone. I am not complete tonight. The two empty chairs to my right and left poetically remind me of the one I miss. It’s something impossible to describe. It’s just felt. It’s just known deep inside me. It’s an aching that only one can heal. There is a surreal, breathtaking harmony in the air tonight of God’s majestic creation in the bright lights and the hills sleeping behind the city twilight, and the cry deep within me that tells me I’m not completely myself tonight without her at my side. Even the great poets who’s words and ashes fertilize the aisles in bookstores don’t know what I feel tonight. It’s that great a longing. It’s so vast, so huge, so beautiful, yet so filled with heartache.
I yearn and burn tonight for the most beautiful woman alive. She rests in dream as I write, somewhere two thousand miles east of where I sit. She looks 900 miles beyond beautiful as she sleeps. I’m not there to know, but I just know. That’s just the way she is to me. Never not captivating, never not the most stunning paint on God’s canvas of beauty. She is His beauty to me. She is the music of my dreams. And I can see her eyes in the lights in the hills tonight. I can hear her whisper in the still air. And I know deep inside that I will wait 900 million years if I have to till I can see her again. For I am not completely me without her. A wave is not a wave without the sea, and I am not I when it’s not her and me. And so I wait, day and night, sun and moon light, month and year, through dream and tear. And I know deep inside my soul that I will wait. I will wait for her…
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