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.