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.Seconds are fleeting moments when an entire life can pass youby in the mere blink of your window-eye.I stared at Homer, willinghim to look, but he remained blissfully unaware.He took a left,when the Creator meant for him to step right.The Creator shouted the long awaited joyful news and Homer s heart missed the musiccompletely.He didn t hear the symphony for Katie s presence orsee the flash of the Creator s finger pointed directly at her as shewalked to the back of the room, but I did.He was too busy lookingout the window dreaming of blue surf. Welcome, Katie. The whole class stopped everything andlooked at the new girl.Everyone that is, except Homer, the onlyone who should ve been looking. Thanks.Where do I sit? In the empty desk.Over there. The teacher pointed to theback of the room. Okay. Just a second, Katie.Here s what we re reading. Thank you. Homer remained oblivious that his lucky penny had dropped.He didn t hear its gentle ping on the polished beige linoleum, didn tsee the flash of the copper as the sun shone from heaven to catchhis eye, and he didn t hear the angelic song heralding his beloved sarrival.I couldn t believe it.Neither one of them saw the other.Ilooked around the class.No one noticed the music or the light.Allthe signs had been ignored. Ladies and gentlemen, back to the poem. We all shuffled our papers around and shifted our butts in theuncomfortable chairs.The boy next to me had the squeaky deskthat sounded like a duck quacking. Homer, why don t you read the poem from the beginning? Homer cleared his throat, and lifted the paper by the edges. His voice was a melodic mixture of his need to believe in love andhis longing for the girl he loved, but who he had not yet met.It was the day the sun s ray had turned palewith pity for the suffering of his Makerwhen I was caught, and I put up no fight,my lady, for your lovely eyes had bound me.Katie listened with her heart.Homer paused before he read thenext stanza.What if she isn t out there after all?It seemed no time to be on guard againstLove s blows; therefore, I went my waysecure and fearless-so, all my misfortunesbegan in midst of universal woe.I heard Katie like she spoke directly into my ear: I wishsomeone would love me like that.Love found me all disarmed andfound the waywas clear to reach my heartdown through the eyeswhich have become the halls anddoors of tears.Katie looked at Homer as he read.She saw the side of histanned face and the locks of light brown hair tipped with silver sun.She looked down at the page of poetry she d been handed.Hereyes followed the sound of Homer s voice through each word andher heart listened.It seems to me it did him little honour,to wound me with his arrow in my state and to you, armed, not show his bow at all.Katie thought, It s sad when love wounds as much as it heals. Thank you, Homer, the teacher said.Homer returned to his daydreams of waiting for such a swell oflove to break over his head, carrying him to the sandy shore ofcontentment.When the ocean swallowed him in its primal bluewetness, he could bear the despair of waiting.When he paddled outto sea he imagined that the girl he loved would emerge like amermaid to greet him.It was fantasy and fairy tale, but Homerbelieved in the illusive mythology of love.So today when he sat and dreamt of the blue ocean, thewaves, and the girl he loved who he had not yet met, he had noidea she was sitting in the room to his left.I don t think it was bymere accident that the teacher selected this sonnet by the ItalianFrancesco Petrarca today.Hundreds of years ago, Francescounderstood about the heaviness of lopsided love.Our teacher toldus Francesco s unrequited love compelled him to despair and writeto this unknown woman every day.He composed love to her whenthe sun rose, when it peaked, when it set, and even when the moonshone full and bright, surrounded by stars and wispy clouds. Get out, Homer.Just get out
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