Can you hear my heart beating?
I could only smile.
I’ve been alone some time.
Words sprinkle out of my salt shaker lips. Drifting out from some cosmic sea. Tides of some turning pool of incandescence.
Moon stones. Horses. Mountain air. The waterfall songs we’d sing.
Just a few of our favorite things.
The key to aloha.
Could the stars really be so bright?
Is your skin really so warm?
Will you still hear my voice when we’re far apart and you’re an ocean away?
There was a time when we would say: We can only dream of summer. You would offer comforting thoughts. You signal through your earth eyes in tones that make words seem so cavalier, so casual, and so capriciously obsolete. Sitting in the car I might start to say that I miss you. Out of that endless source of depth you’d just smile. Foolish as I am, you hardly push your point. You are kind like silk and let the truth of such things make their gentle way to the front of my consciousness. Your presence speaks only of better days. You remind me to sit, stay awhile, soak in the scenery. The way you hold yourself. Breathing in through your eyes and seeming to bring order to chaos and hold the world in place.
Of course, that’s so silly. It is out of chaos we have been found and back into chaos we must joyfully return.
Just for a moment though I could swear we came from another time. I was a wild beast of the sea. You were the mermaid who came and captured me. The great beings of atlantis built an altar to you. An insurmountable carapace of crustacean stone, living matter shaped and molded to mimic the forms of your crystalline figure.
Someday we will return again to that great and deep ocean. For now we resolve to dance and delight upon the beauty of the waters edge.
Come what may. These moments are ours. Moments of praise. Offerings of love to the lost children of babylon.
Today what I snidely called the despondent corporate empire you called the United States of Conciouness.
I really do love your approach.
If I haven’t told you yet,
you are so infinitely beautiful.