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"Time goes from present to past." - Dogen Zenji |
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an energy-send to Mimi for having the first journal I found that inspired me to create my own, and whose strength of character and example remind me of my own faith in myself. xie xie, my friend.
conceived & authored: 12-14 mar 99.
spinning: deep forest, boheme .
"Mingling."
by V. MoraA gentle, bright day with a scattered breeze. Down at the water's edge begins the Ocean, panoramic, stretching to either side and off into the distance as far as the eye can see, as far as the mind can grasp.
She is there, on the beach, waiting. A distant friend from decades past. Her black, flowing long hair and lace dress swaying in the warm breeze, framed against the ocean backdrop. We're walking toward each other, comfortably, patiently. As I walk I look down, watching each footstep press down into the sand, creating and leaving impressions with each step.
I look up; she's closer, still walking. I smile and look down again. My feet are still creating and leaving behind their footprint-sculptures, rhythmically & repeatedly. Risen up out of the sand, left behind, forgotten. A tinge of sadness flashes through me, like a fish startled by the appearance of a scuba diver.
She's here. We meet, our smiles warm each other. It is good to see you, my friend. She hears me, responds by taking my hand and squeezing it.
We sit down together on the sand, the surf in the distance roars and tumbles, protective and vigilant.
The reason for our meeting together comes back to me, and the smile dissolves from my face. I don't want to talk about it, to anyone, not even to someone as safe and dear as her. I lower my head, tired. Tired of all the tears that have flowed, with no purpose, leaving me drained and dry and unpurged, with nothing left to let out.
Two fingertips gently touch my chin and lift my head up. My gaze meets
hers - her deep, dark eyes are cushioned with concern. Her irises are radiating, sparkling, full of life.She doesn't even need to ask, she can see it in my face. I can't hide it. She knows. Who did this to you?
I shake my head wearily and shut my eyes. I did it to myself.
Two fingertips become a warm palm against the side of my face. And the tears start flowing again, hot & stinging as they spill down my face. No, please, I don't want to cry anymore. It doesn't do any good, it doesn't accomplish anything. It just hurts and hurts.
I know. But you must keep letting it out. Keeping it inside will destroy you.
The tears gain a voice - I'm crying openly, in breathy heaving waves. My sobs buffeting against the sound of the rolling surf. She holds both my hands now, tightly, fiercely. I can feel it, she won't let go. Such compassion. It moves me inside, gives the tears inside focus and direction, shows them the way out of their cage.
I feel an embrace … she wraps her arms around me, cradles the back of my head with a hand. Cushioning the gale-force winds inside. I return her embrace with my arms, my open palms outstretched on her back. Her slender, lithe frame so much stronger than this broken male shell.
The sun visibly rolls across the sky like clockwork, shadows shifting, sunlight warming us from all angles. The tears run their course and dissipate.
Her hand cradles my cheek again. And then I feel something, a gentle kiss on my neck, pressed lovingly and tenderly. Her softness melts onto my skin.
She draws my face to hers, looks into my eyes deeply, looking for an answer to her question. My eyes drift across hers, up and around her face, studying her features. She is eternally beautiful.
She can see the quiet, numbed fear in my eyes, the fear of myself, of revealing, of letting go. I hear her inside my mind. Let me show you how beautiful you are.
I've been so alone inside, closed up for so terribly long - I long to feel that melding of energies again, to have it mean so much, again, as it once did.
Let me heal you. Cleanse the hurt from you.
The connecting of every fiber, every soft strand, of energy and essence. That intermingling of skin, of senses, of touch, of blissful vibration and sensation. I want to experience that again before I leave this earth.
Let me show you you are loved.
Our lips come together slowly, delicately, tracing each other's outlines; then, a sealed bond. Our bodies collapse into each other.
The world around us dissolves away. Our focus is on a place occupied by two, a weightless void.
Our bare forms move and press against each other, slowly, fluidly. Every warm curve nurturing the other's lines and contours. Every fingertip, every touch delivering spreading warmth and energy, exploring each detail, each beautiful nuance.
We connect into each other at our life-giving centers, our cores. A conduit for boundless, continuous, endless loving sensation and communication. The source of the beginning.
At this moment, time stops. We are two gods, two parallel vibrations, wrapped around each other, rotating slowly in space.