Touch Me - A Soliloquy by former

Touch Me - A Soliloquy
by
former Navy LT Hank Miller, Spad Driver USS Oriskany 1966-67-68

Touch me. Don't be afraid. I can't hurt you. Go ahead and touch my smooth surface. Feel the cold, glass-like sensation as your fingers gently massage all of the crevices that comprise my being. Use both hands if you wish. We are more similar than you dare to believe.

Touch my face. Yes, I have a face like yours. My face has weathered the centuries as yours has the years. My face portrays the evolution I have experienced. Yours, the birth and death of your generation. My face has aged like yours as we both have endured the testimony of earth's elements.

I have eyes like yours. My inscriptions stare out at you as I search for the meaning of why we are both here in the first place. As I look into your eyes I see your character and all that comprises your personality. My character was formed millions of years past and now you see the results of my evolution.

I can feel your hands and the sweat from your palms flow into the countless combination of the letters comprising my universe. I know you. I have known you since I was able to breathe in the air as my smoothness began to take shape and my color matured along with natural flaws. You have known me since the days when you came to take me from my mother.

You cannot hear me as I remain static, unmoving. The same of me is not true. I can hear your murmurs and your cries of pain and sadness. Your sons and daughters ask why? There are no answers.

I am very old. I have seen it all and I am none the wiser for the pain and suffering I have witnessed since I rose from the bowels of the earth. I have witnessed the conflict, the death, the civilizations, and the societies that have come before you. Yet, I remain mystified about this day.

Today, I feel sad yet alive with a purpose. I have come to know those who are now an integral part of the reason for my being here, at this place and time. That purpose has become apparent as I stand before you on this day while your brethren gather to witness my reflections and changes of light that mirror your soul. I am a reflection of you.

I am all of you . . .

I am your spirit . . .

I am The Wall.

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Hank Miller, Mill Valley, is a free lance writer, former Naval Aviator, and a Vietnam veteran whose lost comrades' names are inscribed on The Wall.

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