That Love

To swoon over the Moon,
To find countenance in the Sun,
To bathe in a mountain's early morning dew,
To be comforted by her warmth on a cold, winter's day,

Is to know that love.

To fall into a warm, natural spring,
To speak without ever saying a word,
To know, absent even the slightest thought,
To find desire in the eternal teasing of her soul,

Is to find that love.

To see beauty even in the roughest, uncut stone,
To stand tall even in the weakness of your knees,
To walk straight even when the mind fails in vertigo,
To find life when standing at death's door,

Is to discover that love.

To grasp a beauty that is silence in the chaos,
To find a smile through the veiled tears of suffering,
To know peace in the violent rages of a war,
To touch the face of heaven and God herself,

Is to finally meet that love.

It is that love for which our purpose lies,
It is that love for which our moments meet,
It is that love for which our dreams were broken,
It is that love for which our hearts do beat.

It is that love for which we seek.
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Let’s Sit Here Awhile

The cold winds blow around us as the Moon shares her light. We are lost souls not really lost; we are broken hearts not truly in pieces. The words we share are not those offered by the broken lost, but by the wholly found, the holy discovered in the truth of a moment born.

I look into your eyes and I surrender. I feel you inhale my breath as our lips meet and I fall. I know you, somehow, a faceless voice from the abyss, a silent visage from some distant horizon. I feel you, somehow, a magical mix of desire, of healing, and of forgiveness. In the heat of my body I surrender to the chill of the winter’s night, and in the warmth of your hands I find comfort in the darkness.

You are…

Present.

A gift of a thousand scars and a million steps suddenly made right by a single kiss. I honor you, I seek you out, and I forgive those who have led me to you.

You are…

Promise.

A solemn oath once uttered by a lost man in the wilderness. I live by  impeccable words etched deep within my heart, words you’ve spoken in the light touch of your fingers. Allow me to return the favor.

You are…

Truth.

In the honesty of a moment we fall into each other, our bodies pressed firmly against each other, our hearts pressed firmly against the winds of time. To speak of this place is to speak of the truth, implicit in its belief that possibility resides in the action, that potential resides in the heart, and that peace resides in two breaths made one, in the subtle fragrance of a morning glory.

It is there we are. Let’s sit here for a while, and bask in the rising Sun. Let’s hold hands and make love as a testament to the dawn we now share. Let’s not gloat, or run, or seek out certain glory. Let’s just set here, for a while, and enjoy the moment for what it is.

Peace.

photo by: ( (( marS )) )

The Sea of Love

Like a crazy summer storm, she came to me. There were no signs. There was no warning. Yet, in a sudden flash the flood had come and I was left a beautiful mess laid strewn upon the sands. I was struck dumbfounded by an invisible bolt of light, as indescribable wave after indescribable wave washed upon the shore. Here I was on the shoreline, clearly bathing in a wonderful Sea of Love.

Life happens for me like that. I’ll be walking along in a mixture of minding-my-own-business and exploring-the-flowers-all-around-me when it comes; a rare and very special moment. The dream seems real and the air seems fresh, and every word I feel becomes written in the tiny bumps that form along my skin. Then, I become a new mixture of contrasts; a man completely aware of the pure consciousness within him suddenly becoming an excited soul jumping about like a schoolboy on Christmas morning.

Ordinarily, I enjoy the fragrance of life, and the magical mixture of color that I see surrounding my space. I prefer never to pick the flowers around me, choosing to let them be to explore their own destiny, in their own way. No flower can grow if I’ve plucked it from its rooted place, and the world is a bit less beautiful when we discard flowers left dead from our embrace.

When that rarest of moments comes, the colors around me change, and the fragrances raise my senses. Light breezes are replaced by not-so-subtle winds as a light mist forms. In this moment, in this time, everything that has happened until now makes sense, and every sound around me becomes a song hummed in paradise. I stand there in stillness, toes playing in the soft sand, waiting for her to catch up to me. Wait I will, lest I kill this beautiful flower and destroy this wonderful gift.

That it is. Sometimes we are reminded of the beauty around us by adding to it. I’ve made my life beautiful by cutting down the rotted trees and weeding out the despot weeds that choke off my existence. In the process, a vast sea of love has been exposed. It is there I wait, patiently looking for her.

She arrives. She’s tricky that way. Nonchalantly she’ll saunter up to greet me, calmly making herself known to the raging wilds within. She can’t possibly see those things that result from her arrival;  the flowers exploding open, the mist steadily drenching my soul, my heart racing within me, my dreams all condensing into one, beautiful form. I take her hand calmly, even as the rush of fire within me sets my world ablaze. I kiss her gently as I struggle to catch my breath. I can feel each wave from the Sea of Love smashing against the jagged rocks I’ve formed with me. This must be heaven.

I know she’s there with me. I can feel it in her touch, taste it in her kiss, and sense it in her every word now filling my needy cup. I whisper not so quietly, Let’s go for a swim, my love. Let’s jump in and see where the current takes us. Let’s surrender to the Sea, for though it is deep and wide, we shall not drown in Her embrace.

A glance. A smirk. Yeah, she knows exactly what I’m saying.

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What if…

What if I love you?

Not in that possessive way men do, but truly, honestly, loved you? What if I wanted to see you prosper in whatever form prosperity took for you? What if I wanted to see your smile, to wipe your tears, to answer your call?

What if you loved me?

Not in that crazy way that women do, but sincerely, truthfully, completely? What if you held my hand for the hell of it? What if you snuggled next to me just because? What if you needed to kiss me as much as I needed to kiss you?

I wonder…what if each and every scar we’ve collected along the way were nothing more than guideposts? What if we looked within our souls and found that your arrows point me, and mine at you? What if, together, our arrows pointed toward a destiny that had always been forsaken until now? What if we have finally found our home?

I am but a dreamer, a solitary force in an overcrowded world. Yet through the clouds and the mist and the multitudes I see but one smile, hear but one voice, and taste but one kiss. What if I gave up each and every desire save the one that speaks your name? What if I knelt upon the ground we shared, looked up at you, and swore an oath only spoken as my lips meet your flesh?

Tell me, sweet dream, what would you do? Tell me, would you crumble to the ground as I tasted your sweet nectar? Would you fall upon me as I entered your paradise? Would you give your all to me in honor of the all I give to you?

Such beauty in these thoughts, in this vision, in this reality. I hear the songbirds differently today. The air, sweetly perfumed with my own clarity, refreshes me. The broken clouds above are giving way to a new moment in time, a new sunlight, and wonderful bead of rain. All I’m left to wonder is, if this dream becomes reality, am I ready?

So many what ifs. So many hopes and dreams race across my mind that I could count the stars with them. Upon that appointed time and place I will settle in, close my eyes, await your arrival and hope that when I awaken, you will still be there.

Until then, I will cast this shadow across the heavens, and wait for you.

I’m Here…

I close my eyes, your image planted firmly in my mind. I see your smile, the glow in your eyes, and the way beautiful lines form on your face telling stories of the countless smiles before.

Like a soft feather you’ve arrived, and like a light whisper I hear the voices of hope tell stories of their own. I’ve learned to not try control them when they come, and though rare they are, I’ve also learned to appreciate their chorus.

It’s like a million lifetimes come back to me in a flash. Through the stilled silence I sit, remembering your hand in mine, your head nestled firmly on my shoulder. I hear your voice echo subtle cries of passion I can only surmise are from moments past, or moments passed, or moments to be relived.

There is peace as the smell of burning sandalwood wafts around me. Tales of wonder balance tales of mischief here. Through the stillness the ripples of something carry me forward, as the light winds of indescribable truth delightfully fill my sails. I can hear and feel the words spoken all around me, and though I grasp at none I can feel the smile cross my lips. I can feel the power of the green fire burning brightly in my chest, as my heart issues a solemn vow to the ether now tickling all my senses.

“I’m here. I hear you. I am waiting.”

No truth can be more clear than this moment’s sacred oath. In that, it promises me nothing, but gives me all I need; a golden chalice never empty – always full – providing me nectar when I thirst, and air when I need to breathe. To be true to you means to first be true to me, and to be true to me I must always honor how I feel.

I feel nothing more needs be done, yet I cannot stop the preparation. A heart made pure through Hell’s own fire, a mind sharpened by the stones of discontent, I rise to meet you; a warrior equal to my task, a sweet soul whose fruit I am to cherish. Here are my shoulders for you to lean, my hand for you to hold, and my heart for you to cradle in your own.

 

The Blue Skies Lie (A Poem)

I relish in my destiny,
For the blue skies always lie,
The truth remains a mystery,
Underneath the sunny skies.

Reality often resides,
Just beyond my sight,
For the truth is often revealed to me,
In the darkness of the night.

So please don’t fear the Sunless sky,
Or the blindness you can’t see,
In the power of a sightless world,
It’s the moon glow that sets you free.

Just beyond the lies that we’ve been told,
Just outside our baseless dreams,
Echoes a truth alive within our hearts,
And the love that it redeems.

In the flag that burns, on hope we’ve tread,
Through mystic, mindless seas,
I’ve forgotten you, my brother still,
A piano’s absent keys.

Tonight on stone my head shall lie,
And pray the Moon does rise above,
On fragile earth I’ll turn to speak,
To the woman that I love.

Give honor to the moments when,
You fell, broken and forlorn,
For in the bloodied, hardened sand,
The best of you was born.

~Gyandeva

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A Letter from Ginger

My children recently received a letter from Ginger, our Elf on a Shelf. It read:

“Dear Michael and Gianna,

It has been my pleasure to be with you these many years. I’ve been able to see you grow, watch your challenges and your joys, and I couldn’t be happier that Santa sent me to you.

I wanted to let you know that my mission has now changed. You both are such wonderful Beings, and you are beautiful people with so much love in you that it is time that you see me as I truly am. I am not Santa’s “spy”. He never sent me to report back to him on what you were doing wrong. Instead, he sent me to report to him on what you were doing RIGHT, and that list has grown larger than I can keep. You both have made the world a much better place.

For now on, during the Holiday Season, I have been tasked to be a reminder to you both. A reminder of all the good you can bring into the world. A reminder of the Spirit of Giving, and the power of offering a helping hand whenever you can. A reminder of the power of a hug, of a kind word, of a loving smile.

The truest gifts are not the things that we get, but the things that we give. Powerful gifts are not expensive, in fact they do not cost a thing. You both know what I am talking about, I’ve watched you give gifts of love and truth for years.

I may appear throughout the year if it feels as if you need a reminder. Remember that I love you, and that the Spirit of Christmas is about love, and about sharing that love with everyone you meet. It is about, seeing how powerful you are when you simply allow the love within you to show itself. When you see me appear, remember those things, and simply say to yourself,

“I love you.”

Everything will change when you believe those words. Say “I love you” to yourself over an over again until that smile appears on your face. It will, I promise.

Have a wonderful Holiday. Peace.

Ginger, your faithful friend.”

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The Simplicity of Such a Complexity (Letter to Her)

I have seen the future…and behold those pools of blue, the sultry waves of your smile, the nestled heart I feel beat in our tightest embrace.

There are no missions left to the simple man. I see, with as much simplicity as I can muster, the complexity of emotions when in the grasp your beautiful gaze. There, the purpose of a life reborn into simple terms takes a turn. There, a man finds himself, renewed with a vigor and a purpose, one that requires he love a woman regardless of the outcome.

Yes, I’ve seen the future, one possible outcome of a million potential stories. I’ve walked with you, hand-in-hand, over a million miles in my mind. I’ve kissed you throughout eternity in my dreams. I’ve held you countless minutes through countless storms and awesome sunny days in my heart. Most of all I’ve given you all you need and you, in turn, have shown me all I could ever be.

There I am…a misty form in one of many dreams, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as your body surrenders into me. There I am…a man who has finally been realized in a one, true love. There I am…a simply man lost in hopeless complexity, or a complex man lost in absolute simplicity.

My life has never been one of shortcuts, of easy routes to the top of anything. So I wait, hoping beyond hope that you’ll finally lean your head against my shoulder, look up at me, and know you are right where you belong.

That’s all. A simple request in a complex world. A simple union of two hearts, of two blocks of marble molded into pieces that fit by the complexities of time and experience. We can share a simple kiss. A simple word. A simple, light touch in just the right place. The simplicity of all I’ll ever need to know.

Things like that seem so simple, but can be so complex. Things like that end up being so complex, but end up so simple. It all works out, the way it should, in its time. Yet, I’ll love you just the same. I’ll seek the best for you. I’ll carry you anytime you need to be carried.

That’s love, as I see it.

A New Religion (Somewhat Mature)

Memories often fade as lonely raindrops on a desert’s sands. There are moments, though, that survive the brutal nature of our journey, and give rise to something new. Something we remember in every vision, in every touch, and in every way mere mortals can be reminded of their infinity.

I remember this. There, in the twilight shadows of a life that has found harmony within itself, I remember. I have felt it, and I feel it now as something courses through my Being, onto the canvas that now shares these words in a way that will never be erased.

I have felt you, my love.

I remember the first time I touched you. You were standing there, that smile, that body, that aura. We hugged, and you held me for a while, allowing those things we share but rarely talk about to have a communion of their own. I could feel your breasts against my chest, your hands pressing hard against my back. Soon, our hips were touching, as your head fit nicely on my shoulder. We rested there, forever in a moment.

It was there I first held the form of God, and it was there I had found a new religion.

I remember the first time I felt you. Really felt you. We were making love, you on top. I had lost the sense of where I was. No compass worked within me, and the room around us had blurred in the moment. I could see only you as I enjoyed your pleasure as your face contorted and your lips moaned with each endless movement. I reached up and pulled your head closer to my own, and we kissed. Our breath mixed, our bodies meshed, and as our lips parted I held your face in my hand. Our eyes met, and it was like some magical circuit had been completed.

Our bodies had joined below, our souls met in the union of our eyes. It was there I touched the face of God for the very first time, and it was there I practiced my new religion.

No person would ever need meet my demands again. You were free, completely. I would love you without question, but I would never own you. I would hold you firmly in my arms, but never seek to place you in a box. It was through you I found that love could not be focused like a laser without destroying everything it touched. Instead, love must be like a star shining brightly  in all directions. What it touches, it reveals.

When my ego’s fears would shout ill-advised words into my mind, I would refocus my attention on the soft whispers of love spoken directly to my heart. When fear would raise its ugly head to bite this wounded man, I would calmly seek the soft attention of a man who’s healed himself. I would not cater again to the fallacies I had been taught. Instead, I would stand upon new ground, on a new earth, that I, myself, had formed.

Upon that ground I built a sturdy altar, one that looks like nothing ever built before. In its many forms we lay, we sit, we stand tall, our lips embraced as our bodies tell a sacred tale. Upon that altar our sweat becomes a nectar of the gods, and that music from our lungs a sweet song that caresses every corner of the heavens that we share.

I have felt  you, my god have I felt you! In the massive quakes and sultry rattles in my entirety, I have felt you. Shaken to dust are the ornate fixtures of my life, and torn to bits are the crimson, silky fabric on which I once would lay my head. Arisen from the rubble stands a naked man, bloodied and caked with mud yet clean and strong to his very core.  It is that man who kneels upon your sacred space, uttering not a promise save the one, forever truth.

I love you.

Such a wonderful place to worship, such a beautiful place to kneel! There, amongst the weathered trees and misty clouds bearing the wicked winds of impermanence, I have found my truest faith. There, amongst the piles of the charred bridges I have burnt away and the rusty remains of ideas I have since all but thrown asunder, you stand as a testament to what was always meant to be.

Such sweet songs we sing.

Little Bits of Her

Suddenly, I think of her.

Yes…you know her too. She’s captured your imagination and set fire to your senses. She’s waved pixie dust in your eyes and poured you a glass of the sweetest nectar you have ever tasted.

There are those moments when she captures my attention even when she’s absent from view. I can picture her in my mind smiling that smile, wilting away the darkness of the day. I can imagine her writing in that little book of hers as I dream of her dreams, share in her aspirations, and wish nothing but the best for us both.

I know very little about her. but I know so much about me with her. I’ve relished in the bits of her that she shares, but I realize that in bathing in the droplets of water spraying from the shoreline rocks, that I have not experienced the sea. There is a vastness to her; and I want to swim there.  There’s so much depth, and I want to dive into her. There so much beauty, and I want to walk along her shores.

Those little bits of her…like bars scattered about from a fractured song…can ignite my wick into a flame. I need very little from her, but I want so much. She owes me nothing, but gives me so much.  She has set me free, and I love her whole in each little bit that I see.

There are no steel bars that hold us, no shackles that tie us to each other. Instead, we’ve accepted the wind on our backs, and the Sun in our eyes, as we fly straight into heaven. Our hands may hold one another’s, our arms may be locked in an embrace, but we are always free, together. Our hearts beat strongly each other’s name, but in love we are free, and in love we belong to the Universe.

Thus, the first note has been struck in a new symphony, the first wave has broken upon new shores. Out of nothing, everything was born, and out of loss came the greatest love I will ever know.  There is no mystery in the wound. It’s simply a passage into unlimited greatness.

That’s what I’ve found in those little bits of her. Those little bits that have made me whole, those little bits that have lit the torches along my path. Those little bits that create the song I whistle as I walk. Those little bits that leave me weak in my explosive moments of ecstasy.

She knows them, and as she caresses me back to life those little bits of her open my eyes and bring me closer to where I want to be. She accepts me as I am, and takes little bits of me into her hands. Rather than capture them in a jar, she nurtures them and blows them back into the ether, setting free all but those parts of me that have become parts of her.

She loves me, but never needs say it. I can feel it with every thought I have, with every touch we share, with every drop of sweat we offer to one another. Somehow, not-so-little bits of her have become part of me, too. I love her, and she knows it even if the words have never been spoken.

There is greatness in the spoken word, but greater power in the words that never need be spoken. The silence and the notes make the song. The light and the darkness make the day. Somehow, those little bits of her and those little bits of me have mixed to make a wonderful masterpiece. Somehow a simple seed as fallen onto fertile ground, and now we have a forest to explore. Somehow, a single drop of rain gave birth to a vast ocean. and here we are so ready to take a swim.

A beautiful moment indeed. The birth of a brand new Universe. The birth of eternity.

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What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

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