My lover lifts his head, listening intently. A sound a memory, an echo passing through the night. It soothes the chaos and the clamor of day sounds and night voices. You turn your head to hear the whispering wind, "Sweet Nyekayu come to me." An ancient sound that stirs the deep recesses of your mind, instantly you recognize. Words deep within "My lover calls." His lips part, and one thought spoke a loud, the wind catches it and reverses course, the words whispering a single thought "I come to thee my love."
Night vanquished by day and darkness swept over the horizon like a blanket. I lay in bed, peaceful laziness, as the crickets hum. The loll of their buzzing drifts in through my window, the breeze and curtain play like children, their game barely audible to my ears. I stir, unaware of sense and motion. Then the breeze picks up as the wind closes in around the house, circling, flowing through the windows, through mine. The wind comes as a soft voice in my dream. It is my Nyekayu, I am calling to him and he is answering, "I come to thee my love, I come to thee!"
I wake, and listen, the crickets hum louder as I become aware of sight and sound. The wind, with the words echoing in that deep soft baritone way that only my lover speaks with, "I come to thee my love." I rise, tip-toe to the stairs, graceful descent, and to the door. I wait a second, two seconds, three seconds. And then the door comes to life with a rapping. Excitement escapes me, I open the door.
Nyekayu's dark eyes like sparkling ebony star light, his lips are pressed together in a smile. I fall into him, embracing him, oh the sweet intoxicating smell of soap and aftershave. His arms embrace me. "I am here." He says softly. "Yes!" I reply happily.
Such distances and so long have we two been apart that the hearts cry. When in love, two hearts become one, but apart, each lover having only half.... The hearts must be again, one.
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A story about two magical lovers.
