Wherefore Art Thou?

Heart Lore

I'm in Verona, a city in northern Italy’s Veneto region. Looking at the tiny balcony of Casa di Giulietta where Juliet stood while Romeo declared his love, I've been inspired to update the script for Shakespeare's well-known balcony scene such that it will include my annotations and have a happy ending. The original dialogue lines from the play are italicized.

Where'e'er I go, my Soul shall stay with thee:
'Tis but my Shadow that I take away. - Dryden

PROLOGUE

The night begins like a hundred others before it. There is nothing to suggest that anything is about to change. ROMEO feels wonderfully invisible, as he stands in the shadow of tall cypress trees behind which is tucked in an ivy-covered fourteenth century house.

As JULIET enters the balcony, her sweet, vulnerable air of innocence immediately fills the surroundings. It is as if she had lifted the atmosphere from stillness and given it a soul. She stares out onto the inky gloom of the courtyard below, her dark lashes quivering on her cheeks.

ROMEO feels a flicker of disbelieving delight: But wait, what’s that light in the window over there? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. He lets out a long breath. There is a joyful swell in his chest. Look how she leans her hand on her cheek. Oh, I wish I was the glove on that hand so that I could touch that cheek.

JULIET sighs, her voice floating into the surroundings. Oh, my!

ROMEO, feeling faint joy as she speaks, mutters in a voice so low his words seem carried by the breeze that brushes Juliet's upturned face: She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel. You are as glorious as an angel tonight.

JULIET, not knowing ROMEO hears her, utters his name repeatedly like a chant, pulling him in. Her voice is a low rumble in his ears: Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, my Romeo? Then her voice drops to a husky murmur. Why do you have to be Romeo? Just swear you love me and I’ll stop being a Capulet.

The words leap from her mouth, or maybe her heart. She inclines her head. Such loveliness, such grace in her gesture. And in it, ROMEO reads both the beginning and the end of every lover's poem, every romantic dream, every fairy tale that has ever been written.

ROMEO mumbles to himself, his eyes crinkling at their corners: Should I listen for more, or should I speak now?

JULIET, still not knowing ROMEO hears her, says softly: It’s only your name that’s my enemy. Oh, be some other name! The thing we call a rose would smell just as sweet if we called it by any other name. She closes her eyes and tries to hold the moment.

ROMEO's thoughts are lurching wildly back and forth. His voice is clipped, as though he wishes to waste no time, as he answers in a whisper that matches hers: I trust your words. Just call me your love, and I will take a new name. From now on I will never be Romeo again. There is nothing to fear, he assures her. Nothing at all.

JULIET feels the slight blush rise in her cheeks: Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness and listen to my private thoughts?

Without missing a beat, ROMEO replies: I don’t know how to tell you who I am. I hate my name because my name is your enemy.

He steps out onto the courtyard. Seeing him, she holds her gaze for what seems like forever. He smiles and her heart quickens. They look at each other in silence, as if a warm hand had closed around, protecting them.

JULIET finds the words, but in a voice that trembles: Our love, which right now is like a flower bud, may turn out to be a beautiful flower by the next time we meet. I’ll send a messenger to you, and you can pass on a message telling me where and when we’ll be married.

ROMEO's tone is soft and knowing: For if there were no winter, we can never hope for spring. His eyes warm on hers, and wise, he continues: Our spring will come. 

He presses a hand over his heart, glimpsing her look of quiet pleasure: When you love, your soul breathes in. I've never been so sure of anything as I am sure that I have your heart.

She feels his voice like an embrace, an arm of comfort around her shoulder.  

EPILOGUE

The simple sweetness of that captured moment, so potent with promise, makes them feel like they are the only two people in the world, under a thousand twinkling stars.

Enveloped in dreams of eternal love, they look over to the east. The sky has begun its slow transformation from midnight to the limitless blue-gray that precedes dawn and a passionate life ever after.

Exeunt

The Man On The Moon

Heart Lore

Written on a cruise along China's Yangtze River while passing through Wushan, known for its natural scenery including the Goddess Peak and the Three Little Gorges of Daning River

Looking at the Tranquil Emerald Gorge in Wushan

Emerald rain had fallen from Wushan's mountains into the gorge,

Holding in its hands the moon;

I hoped to catch a glimpse of the man on the moon,

But saw only your face on the clearing ripples,

Peering from a neat cleft of my mind.

One Ever After

Heart Lore

In a sea of people, my eyes will always search for you.

Why does love have to be complicated? Penguins have demonstrated that it isn't, or doesn't have to be so.

A prevalent lore says that during the breeding season, the male penguin picks out a mate from groups called rookeries which can include thousands of these waddling sea-birds. I don't know how the feathered suitor can tell the difference. He must have fixed a steady gaze on a certain female penguin and said, blinking, Such a distinctively large head, adorably perched on a short neck.

Or he could have expressed his feelings in a calm, well-bred penguinese gab that sounds like an old car failing to start, Utterly lovely. The upright posture is elegant. Or in quiet admiration of her legs and webbed feet that are set far back on her elongated body, he may have turned to her in wordless appeal.
  
At this warm approval, pleasure must have pulled at the would-be fiancee's beak, but she'll pretend she has not noticed.

After making a choice, the male goes and finds five smooth stones and, one by one, lays them at her feet - perhaps, like a nervous first-timer in a singles bar, tapping his flippers against his streamlined body. Although penguins don't sweat, he must have felt a bead forming on his plumes. 

The would-be fiancee must have forgotten to breathe when this happens. She could have moved casually away, with no visage of eagerness and gaws, Hmmm, noncommitally, but with a sweet laugh. It's all she can do, not to jump up and dash toward his tuxedoed handsomeness.

At that moment, I can imagine that they will fall into rapt quietude like onlookers at a seance awaiting the appearance of some divine spectre. The female tries to honk, but she finds there is no sound when she opens her beak. Then, after a suitable period of silence, a glance between them will convey their mutual satisfaction. Beguiling him with a smile, she gaks, I accept, in as ladylike a tone as she can manage.

The backward-facing fleshy spines that line the inside of the suitor's mouth are parched, but he manages to squawk an enthusiastic response. Great! 

The male will angle his head toward his mate after which they'll toboggan on their bellies happily, using their flippers and feet to slide their bodies forward along the ice. 

Time will loop in on itself from this day forward, when they first meet and fall in love, and life will be measured out in One Ever After.

Sag-In: Legend Of The Banana

Heart Lore

My bedtime stories didn't come from books, but from tales told by Lil' Boy. I miss their innocence. Their charm. Here is one that I love and remember.

On me your voice falls, as they say love should, 

like an enormous, 'Yes.' - Philip Larkin

When the world was still new, spirits and ghosts roamed everywhere, Dadee starts, staring up at the ceiling. My eyes get big. With riveted attention, I am hanging on his every word. I don't have the breath to say anything.

A brave and beautiful young girl named Raya would always search for these spirits, he says in a crisp voice. One day, she heard someone call her name, 'Raya!' When she looked up, she saw a handsome young man.

My mouth drops open. Dadee's voice lowers into a whisper. His name was Sag-in. He confessed that he had fallen in love with Raya.

What happens next? I ask with unusual patience. They got married and had a child! Dadee answers with a smile in his voice. And they lived happily ever after, I applaud with a grin.

A gesture of Dadee's hand negates the thought, No. He gives an uneasy laugh. But Sag-in knew that his time on earth was short-lived and that he had to return to the spirit world soon. I watch Dadee make a shrugging gesture with his hands. Ohh, I sigh, my heart twisting in a braid of disappointment and sorrow. My smile stiffens and dissolves.

But he was going to leave a part of him behind, he says consolingly. Raya saw a bleeding heart on the ground. My heart must have missed a beat. I'm scared stiff.

Dadee continues with a straight face. She planted it and took care of it until one day, long green leaves sprouted from the grave. Soon, the tree bore a fruit that is shaped like a heart. Raya lovingly caressed it believing that this could be Sag-in's heart until it slowly opened and long golden fruits sprouted from it.

I squint in an effort to understand. My eyebrows bunched in a scowl, I ask raising my voice, So that's where we get the banana? From Sag-in's heart? 

Dadee simply continues in a creaky voice. She peeled and bit the fruit and heard Sag-in's voice telling her, 'Yes, Raya, it is my heart. Take care of this plant. Its trunk and leaves will give you shelter and clothing. The heart and fruit will be your food. And when you sleep at night, I will stand and watch by your window. I will stay by your side forever.' 

Dadee's voice trails off into a mumble as the night outside, vast and menacing, clamors at our windows and seeps through the cracks of the house. 

By the story's end, I have drifted into sleep and abandoned myself to my dreams.