Touch Me - A Soliloquy
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
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
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.
Copyright 2006 - Hank Miller
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