Spring GrassGood night, my love, my dream, my beating heart. Know that beyond these fields where mortal thoughts play there is a space for us. Know that with each passing moment, with each distant grain of sand that draws us close, we are nearing that embrace for which we were destined.

I haven’t written to you in a while, but know that in the silent prayers of your parting lips I hear the angels swoon. Know that in the mindful pants of a beating heart I hear the waves carrying away those castles of sand we have built along the way. Know that in the simple notes of a poor man’s bowl I hear a promise of heaven’s coins; you are the riches that fills this longing soul’s coffers, and the answers to a million hopes through a zillion tears rained out from an eternal storm of which there need never be respite.

I know that these tests that life creates have spawned countless memories for us to play. I know the wisdom of the mighty crosses that we bear, and as the prayers of hope for a lighter load bathe over us like water from the clouds above comes the realization that we simply need let go, and the wooden frame that bends our backs and buckles our knees will simply disappear. Oh how powerful we are, my Love!, yet to others we are but simpletons dancing to music not yet written for singers who have yet to meet the stage for which they were born.

Now a breath, a pause, and silent statement to whichever gods will listen before I close my eyes and this day in loving harmony. Good night, my love, my dream, my beating heart.  Until we meet again.