the night was wondrous but not wonderful, for amazement and surprise are elements of discovery, and the unexpected discovery is a haunting piece of music; were it for that night to have worn different colours, colours that one expects certain moods to wear, then surprise would have been replaced by gesture and pose. But this was night on tips and toes, this was fur coat and scarf, it was bright lips and brown, it was frost and fog. Had one known, one could have quoted favourite lines from favourite writers, come prepared with steel and silk, music and book, mask and wit. Had one known, one would have invented name and face, learned beforehand to walk with grace on ice and snow, sought advise from friend and seer; had one known, one could have learned not to fail one self, to look calm when the heart was all agitation.
But the unexpected happened. You came with the force of attacking marauders, with the impatient force of merciless armies, with the unexpected disquieting force of unavoidable power. Your finger tips tore the night air to shreds, your bright lips burnt the frost with a blazing flame, the havoc your presence created was unknown to you, you were one calm presence amongst fluttering hearts. Your words made ripples that still linger with me, your smile was seldom effusive but when you spoke, your words fell on the frost like clear diamonds. When you left, the space behind you ached with the lushness of invincible surmise. You took with you our disjointed words and our stunned surprise.