
I was sitting on the bank of the river, beneath the willow tree. The branches cascaded gracefully around me, sweeping me into their gentle embrace as the breeze floated through them, bringing them to life. The water rushing over the rocks serenaded me with its song as I waited for her. I knew she was coming. I had been anticipating her arrival for some time. I watched the reflection of the sun beaming off the surface of the water like dancing stars twinkling about. Were they waiting for her also?
It was a warm day but not unbearably hot, just the kind of day I love. I felt drawn to walk – not my usual path. For some reason, I felt adventurous that day. I felt a calling, as if the cool breeze was delivering me an engraved invitation to linger in the midst of creation. Was it the thought of sitting at the river’s edge that made me thirst so? As I walked up the crest of the hill, I realized that it wasn’t a natural thirst. I wasn’t parched by any means, yet there was something inside me that needed to be quenched, an unnameable thirst. I could hear the sound of the water – it awakened a need in me. I knew I was close when I saw the top of the willow tree. I would sit beneath it and breathe everything in.
I could sense her approaching. She had plans. She was seeking comfort - from what – she didn’t know. Through all her senses, I was drawing her near to me. I knew she felt it. She just didn’t realize that it was me. How could she? I knew she thirsted for something that would satiate, something that would satisfy, something everlasting. The sweet smell of the irises carried her up the mount. My heart smiled within. Every beat thumped within me increasing my exhilaration. It would only be a matter of time before she’d be mine. She didn’t know I had been waiting there for her for what seemed an eternity.
As I climbed up the hill, the willow became more lifelike with every step. It beckoned me. I felt drawn. My heart called out to me in a way I’ve never experienced before, as if the summit of love was waiting to embrace my arrival. The walk was steeper than I had anticipated. I wasn’t tired from the climb – it was more like a sweet exhaustion caused by an unknown anticipation that had overcome me. My senses were heightened, finely attuned to creation’s calling. “Come to me, you who are weary and burdened.” I wasn’t weary or burdened in a natural way. There had been something missing – something in a place I couldn’t name. “Come to me. Come to me,” everything around me whispered – not into my ears but into every part of my being – parts I was just then becoming aware that I had.