for Anna Neeley, a lovely lady I hope to see again someday, I always just called her "Neeley"
Someone spoke of our past...
when we were together.
I didn't remember their stories.
I remembered red earth...
and dust darting across a sanctuary...
on sloping light through stained glass windows.
And voices of harmony
singing unearthly songs...
which cleansed my ache and my memories
and oaken altars made for crying...
and someone handing me a cloth to dry my tears...
the scent of an old lady...
kneeling beside me...
caressing my shoulder...
with a motherly touch...
telling me...
"don't worry child...
everything's going to be alright."
Yes, if you can believe, everything will be all right. Believe.