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Step 1: The Conjuring Pen

So still in the night I await your presence, curtains drawn, I peek between the cracks. Asleep or awake, I do not know which one. I hear your breathing; it nestles up to me on my pillow, this breath, allowing entrance into some private spot. Wanting you. 

  “For what reason?” the knowing self questions the woman on the bed.

“To know you,” she replies, lips parted in a whisper, eyelids half-mast, pouring over your beauty with finger light touch.

The body does not forget.

She takes the pen in her 

hand…………………………………

The shade is half drawn to take the corner off the sunlight streaming in the picture window. Outside on the bench, a gathering of coffee cups and social faces. Amid the busy clatter two men walk across the alley, engaged in conversation. She watches them, wondering at their intent, the dark ones beauty and hidden eyes.

“Who are these men? What are they doing? They intrigue me, in a wary sort of way, with their Jimmy Cagney secrecy. The dark one, lovely, even with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses.”  

A moment passes. The two men sit down on the bench just outside her table. The dark one peers in at her. She takes his gaze, holds it, then returns to paper, the pen still pointed on its 

mark……………………………………..

The earliest morning hours have come. They seep through the cracked window opening onto the street, quiet now, but for the occasional car or bus finding its way through. You have stayed with me, like that memory of a distant day, your breath moving back and then back again, caressing that line between time and timelessness. Wanting you.

“For what reason?” the knowing self questions the woman on the bed.

“To know you,” she replies, moving her head on the pillow, sliding her hand through her hair, picking up the pulse, beat after beat.

The body does not forget.

She takes the pen in her 

hand………………………………….

The water, the continually moving depths, bringing such comfort and sense of clarity; it is good to be here now. The influx of people, in and out, the procession of men, women, children and dogs, even in this nook by the water’s edge. Two men and a dog come to sit on the other side of the nook, it too surrounded by tall dry grass.

“I do not trust his friend, but he is charming, this one with the accent. Chek he says, to the couple with the dog being sniffed by his own canine companion. He swims off into the distance, a speck now in the cold purifying waves.”

The minutes pass into blue sky. He emerges from the water, dripping, sitting beside her to question the words on the page.  He moves to his friend’s side and dries himself with a towel. She smiles and glances at the halted pen, holding its place, for his

return……………………………..

The sky begins to vibrate with that deep blue, the true color of all things. Dawn is rising with the movement of your breath, cascading down the spiral of half closed eyes. It is palpable now, this awareness, this longing. Wanting you.

“For what reason?” the knowing self questions the woman on the bed.

“To know you,” she replies, “mind to mind, heart to heart, breath to breath.” Rising from the pillow to part the curtains and see blue, the sky has come to earth to bare fruits of the sea. 

The body does not forget.

She takes the pen in her 

hand………………………………….

A glimpse of his eyes, several times, as they rise from the stage, the drum, the guitar. The tiniest bit of a smile?  Indescribable movement, a meeting from stage to dance floor, dance floor to stage, as they swim the currents of music, pulse and light. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, almost to the exit door.

“Thank you for dancing,” he replies, one last glance, eye to eye.

Not like the others, losing their way, but 

                                                                               mind to mind

      heart to heart

breath 

to 

breath

I await you now.

Step 2: Sleeplessness

She sits facing the candles, feeling the texture of movement through space and time, catapulting her through the blackness and endless stars on the computer screen. The giddy sleepless excitement, sprung from the sound of his voice broadcasting over telephone lines, across water separating land from land, through the blackness and endless stars, has flowed into serious contemplation of this extraordinary, virgin love. Barely touched, like a fingertip on the pulse of an immense organism. Where is the origin of this love? Where will it go? A mother’s fear of losing it, like a child growing in the womb and never born. She burns the sage and offers that fingertip of fire to his image, to her own.

Oh Mother Oh Mother

of hearts and dreams 

lead us on this path assuredly

in bliss

***

Darkness will come quickly now. A little girl’s breath filling the room, anchoring my own as it meets yours, surging through the walls and the ceiling. Now the fine tune of your voice rolling off my ears and into my dreams. You are beside me. 

     “Why won’t you come to the island?” you say, holding my hand with the lightest of pressure, stroking fingertips.

     “Because there’s no place for me there,” I reply, lingering in the heart felt stroke, palms like maps to the inner workings.

***

Oh Virgin Love

I want to bare you like Jesus

transform you 

take you from the watery bed

release you to the sun

***

She sits in the light now, streaming fingertips of warmth through the throng of enamored clouds. Lub Dub Lub Dub, beating now, steady coming, heartbeat pouring inside to accompany his breath. 

***

I have waited for you

you have emerged

appreciative

comprehending.

Step 3: Drawing You Near, Letting You Go

Deer stands in his headlights, lingering hooves on dirt, heart pulsing from the magnetic earth connecting her to the vast night sky above.

I have dreamed of those stars 

as your eyes

lingering light 

following its course home

In the water, cool, a blessing to this late summer sun she stands in stillness, toes rubbing rocks, allowing the waves to speak in coherent voice, shimmer their hidden light, green and luminous, coursing through her body like the sorrow of longing unfulfilled.

to take your hand

fill your deep deep soul

with this shimmering  

luminescent love

The wholeness of the Being of water envelops her, parting fingers and thighs, speaking of purity and surrender, allowing for his Being to partake in this blue green mystery touching her skin. 

the dream of you

pulling, softly pulling

hand gently touching your cheek

languidly as it passes out of reach

She watches Deer from the distance of four cars. Deer’s heart beat expanding into the wide-open space filtering through minds, questioning and hopeful.

take her with you

the messenger guide

building beauty and grace

as you bound away 

Our hearts move inside, enter the Temple of the Deer.