Notes from a Time Traveller by Elke Stevens

Eyes gentle and open, an invitation for the soul, kind and warm, words soft and smooth as she sees me.

Wounded she found me, resting in the arms of my despair, tilled by her hand, I put trust in this angel passing through my life.

Lifting the fog from my glazed eyes, sitting near the window, she keeps my attention on the journey.

With no game of pride, but putting my most vulnerable me in her hands, I close my eyes and see images of the past not in place.

She lifts my gaze up and let me find my breath as she works her magic, no judgement on a journey from past to future.

She looks at me and keeps me present, as we giggle and I fall in laughter of the fool in me.

I feel grateful for the magic in my life, knowing no meeting is without meaning, short or long.

© Elke T.B. Stevens 23/03/2021