Magical Beings

Hallstatt, Austria, 2011.

Hallstatt, Austria, 2011.

She was writing, as with him.
“It seems like I am always
just waiting for you,” he wrote,
“days have no sense without you.”

Once, his world had been empty.
But now it is filled by her,
and all he longs is to hear
the music of her heartbeats.

They would watch the clouds float by
whenever either felt blue
and, too, when they were happy
– they always were, together.

Every night before she slept,
he kissed her on the forehead
with all of his dreams, for he
no longer dreamt; she was his.

Now he felt one thing missing
and he knew it to be her.
For since the day they had met,
there was nothing else but her.

They imagined growing old –
they would write, and read, and love;
the words and pages, flying,
that together form their lives.

They could travel the whole world,
but already he now knew
all the wonders of the world;
the eighth and most wondrous: her.

He called her his magical
being, but he did not know:
since the very first moments,
she had already been his.

– Agnes Chew

Discovering this idyllic place, we find ourselves filled with a yearning to linger here, where time stands still and beauty overwhelms.

– Vincent van Gogh

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