The Meadow

A Story of the San Juans

“For Jan”

Copyright – D. Congour 6/19

Revised 12/27/20

A late spring day,

A mountain hike,

Some forty years ago,

As gentle breezes melted ‘way,

The last of winter’s cold.

A field of lovely flowers there,

Pushing through the snow;

Primrose, Lily, Pussytoes,

Penstemon, Wild Rose...

In this tree rimmed meadow,

There perchance I spied,

A sight that made me catch my breath,

Then give a gentle sigh;

A sight to fill me with delight,

Mixed with sweet surprise;

An angel clad in flowing dress,

Stood there before my eyes!

With shining hair,

and blue green eyes,

The flowers met their match,

A smile whose warmth,

A dozen Sun’s,

It’s power would dispatch.

A sheaf of fresh picked blossoms,

Were grasped within her hand,

As she rose,

And said “Hello!”

To this stranger of a man.

My heart was lost in moments brief,

I tripped upon my tongue.

But gentle words from her I got,

That settled me anon.

I felt no turn of clock that day,

As we walked amongst the firs,

Strolling through the sylvan way,

With my hand in hers.

Her love was with the flowers,

The animals and trees,

The owl, the squirrel, the woodfire

The mountain lions, and bees.

And in my soul I felt quite sure;

On that warm spring day,

However long our lives may last,

Her love with me would stay!

The weeks passed by,

In happiness,

As summer slowly spent,

It’s velvet warmth upon us both,

As to our task we bent:

A cabin built!

When time we had,

That summer long ago;

And into it our love we’d poured,

With saw and sweaty brow.

By summers end we had a place,

Of Joy we could behold,

With snowy face,

Of Courthouse Peak,

And flaxen fields below.

We stocked it very simply,

With not much, to be told,

But now we had a special place,

Where both we would grow old.

A meadow spot a few miles up,

On summer eves we went,

Where passing time in warm embrace,

Our love seemed heaven sent!

Time stood still as sunsets flamed,

We giggled, talked and schemed,

Long and true about our dreams,

Warm in our content.

At twilight cool by woodfire’s flame,

There beside the tent,

On rock together close we sat,

Hot tea! Our dreams to vent.

The vista of the old San Juan’s;

Bathed in Alpenglow,

Painted on the peaceful scene,

Of campsite there below:

Two lovers sit

In blanket cloaked,

Happy and serene,

A song to sing by firelight,

As laughter fills the scene,

With feelings warm,

And love sincere,

As love had ever been.

But Demons trolled her tender heart,

From a past I did not know,

They preyed upon her time to time,

And would not let her go.

There was, at times,

A sadness,

That dwelled within her eyes.

A place where no sweet solace,

Unto her heart could find.

The sunshine I would give her,

If only I were let,

Would be to ease her sadness,

And end her bouts of fret.

She asked if I could leave her;

She thought it would be best:

A time apart to free her;

To set her heart to rest.

A locket then I gave to her,

To keep our flame alive,

A picture of my youthful face,

Inside for her to spy.

My tears then flowed quite freely,

As we said goodbye,

A promise to return to her,

Before two weeks went by.

But time passed by,

When finally,

I needed to surmise,

The reason for her silence,

And for her non-reply,

To a letter of entreaty,

On questions of her health,

Of feelings held so deeply, and,

Affection gone awry.

So on the path I found myself,

And so did find my way,

Back to the little cabin,

Where to my great dismay,

I saw no sign of life at all,

My love had gone away!

The weeks turned into months,

The winter snows did fall,

And never reason could I find for,

Her leaving me at all!

Then one day in early Spring,

I walked through wood and stream,

To the meadow which had warmed our hearts;

And where our love had bloomed.

And there, at last, I found her,

Cold eyes turned toward the sky;

Her lovely form upon the grass,

With flowers growing by.

Hemlock bottle in her left hand,

The one I’d held in love;

And in the right the locket,

That held encased in gold:

The smiles,

And tears,

And memories,

And Love inside it’s fold.

I buried her upon the spot,

Where passion once had played;

With either of us caring not,

What was the time of day.

My tears fell freely ‘pon the ground,

To wet the bulbs I sowed,

In years to come

Her loveliness,

To add to, once they’d grown.

The heavy granite stone I found,

Where once we both had sat.

I placed it softly ’pon the ground,

To mark this hallowed spot.

No words upon the stone I wrote,

Not wishing to intrude,

On the beauty of this special,

Place of solitude.

Besides, which words there could I write,

Would be as ever true?

As those inscribed upon my heart,

For the purest love I knew!

Time alone could never heal,

Nor caring friends provide,

A happy path to freedom,

From the grief I hold inside.

No solace for a broken heart,

Nor mind at ease to set,

From fate of lovers torn apart,

The sadness, the regret.

So precious locket of our youth,

With mem’ries of those days,

Her picture added there to mine,

With me ever stays.

On meadow stone an old man sits,

His whiskers frosted gray,

As through the trees,

Wind softly flows,

Her lovely spirit plays!

And laughing, singing,

‘Mongst the bows,

A lonely heart to lift,

The gentle wind to him conveys,

To cheek her gentle kiss.

And as the forest scented wind,

Blows fresh among the trees,

A happy sound he hears this day,

A voice among the leaves!

He shouts a heartfelt greeting!

And in response she says,

“I love you now,

As I did then,

And to the end of days!”

Often times I‘ve told my friends:

“Whenever comes the day,

When my breath of life is stilled,

There please my body lay”.

And when beside my love I lie,

Forever on that hill,

My soul will then be one with hers,

My quest of life fulfilled.

Who knows what meaning comes from life,

Or what lies past the door,

Of death,

But truth be told,

Of this one fact I’m sure:

My soul and hers locked in embrace;

In love forevermore.

So if one day,

Dear Reader,

You stumble there upon,

A lovely grassy meadow,

In view of the San Juan.

Compose a heartfelt message,

Upon the wind to sow,

Perhaps we then will feel it,

But,

For sure I cannot know.

But in my soul,

I do believe,

If the fates allow,

With kindness then we will bestow,

Upon your Earthly brow:

A wish for peace and happiness,

And blissful feelings from,

Two lovers bound together,

And ever more made one!