Love has no desire but to fulfill itself.  To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.  To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.  ~Kahlil Gibran

Thoughts on a December Night

Love is a doorway to faith and trust, faith in what you believe and trust in your heart and soul.  Love is no easy test as the world is full of doubters, those who do not believe and those who would take pains to destroy the beliefs of others.  Love is a gift for some and a curse for others, the cup half empty or half full.  For me it is a gift, as hard as it is for some to understand, a gift beyond words.

There is so much I would like to say tonight, but perhaps this is not the right place.  I suppose the words would be best left for a conversation, or the private pages of a letter. Something pushes me to write those words and so I have tried and tried again. It is not the eighteen times I tried with a letter once so many months ago, but my words have struggled to find the way.

You have found the way to the garden of my heart and with the key you have entered,  bringing life to that garden. You have filled it with the sounds of a summers day and the soft breeze of night. It is not the man in a picture, but someone beyond what others see, something deep within your words that speaks to me.  I feel you beyond those words and beyond distance, something I will never be able to explain, though I wish I had the chance.

It is late now and the crescent moon shines in the star filled sky. No doubt it is day for you. I hope your day is good and finds you well.

“Le coeur a ses raisons que le raison ne connaît point; on le sait en mille choses.”

“Absence diminishes small loves and increases great ones, as the wind blows out the candle and blows up the bonfire.“

La Rochefoucauld

Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.  ~Malagasy Proverb

 

I  am days late with  my words, but they are always in my heart, if not on the page.   Even if you can hear them unspoken, I would rather you drift on soft words and endless love.

Somewhere I Have Never Traveled

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
e.e. cummings

A Birthday

• Y heart is like a singing bird

  Whose nest is in a water’d shoot;

  My heart is like an apple-tree

  Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;

  My heart is like a rainbow shell

  That paddles in a halcyon sea;

  My heart is gladder than all these,

  Because my love is come to me.

  Raise me a daïs of silk and down;

  Hang it with vair and purple dyes;

  Carve it in doves and pomegranates,

  And peacocks with a hundred eyes;

  Work it in gold and silver grapes,

  In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;

  Because the birthday of my life

  Is come, my love is come to me.

  Christina Rossetti

One day I drifted into meditation, the sounds of the room falling  away as I drifted with my thoughts. I felt my body lighten and my breathing grow quiet.  It was then I saw you, your face before my eyes, smiling. Behind you was a hand that beckoned  and I felt myself  become light as a feather, cradled by a swirl of gray mist.  To this day I do not know what would have  followed, as startled  and  slightly  afraid,  I grabbed hold of the  things around me and returned from wherever I had gone.  I have often thought about that day, that early meditation and how powerful it was, and I wonder when you will come again.

You call me with a quiet voice, like a gentle love song,

and I answer, finding you in dreams.

Unfinished Thoughts

As I look upon the moon just before sunrise I  think perhaps you had gazed upon her as well in the hours before me.   She fills me with words, this moon, and you .  But then you have always made my heart laugh and my spirit dance.  There is so much I want to say to you, things I have  wanted to tell you about this place in my soul hidden from all others.   Perhaps it was only yours to find.