Then :
" Close your eyes ," she commands .
In the darkness I see all the threads of my life . The hard-won career she says I will return to eventually . The love she says I will enjoy . There is no contradiction , she tells me . I see love breeding love and family and opportunity and fair trade and civic peace ; and lives I will create , gardens I will nurture , nations that will grow and prosper because of me . For I am The Virgin Priestess . The Continuity . The Eye of my own storm ...
I hear a voice whisper " Say , Yes " and know I will . I open my eyes . The woman is gone . But I remain …
She has thought of that encounter many times throughout the years . The woman ' s face is imprinted in her mind still , which is peculiar . Her husband of fi y years has been dead only ten days and yet his face is already becoming blurred ...
This thought slams her back into the present . The mockery of this perfect morning . Her chest constricts , her fists clench . Panic knots her stomach . She is alone , alone , alone . They were together for so long . Now what ? She is a widow . She is an un-wife .
Through the roaring in her brain , she hears shouting from a long way off . Her head turns . The same beautiful young woman is standing in the water next to her . A strange waiting calm envelops her , the tears ceasing mid-stream on her cheeks ...
A voice says : Close your eyes . So I do ...
I see all the threads of my life . I see ideas I have created , demons I have vanquished , traditions I have made that will echo long a er I am dust . I see my own face reflected in mirror a er mirror down through the ages .