FREE LOVE LETTERS

Love letter # 373

This is for all of us – the great unremembered. The ones who shall end in dust.

In this universe of time we are but sub-atomic flickers. In the crush of history, we are the buried empires – the nameless bones – the unrecorded particulars. Less than forgotten. Barely distinguishable from the great nothing.

And when we have all vanished, the world will turn without us – its epic circles bigger than anything we could ever fashion. And it will turn as though we never were.

For we are but the small and lonely watchers. Lonely but for you.

In the shimmering sea of everything, we the tiny swimmers gasp for life – trapped in the cell of the self – looking out to the void – somehow knowing that we too shall be seen. And by that very act of seeing, created.

Just as it was in the beginning – when The Oneness became The Twoness – when The One made The Other in order to make itself.

Because down here in the dirt – in the almost infinitely minute world of you and me – the same great symmetries apply. I am nought without you.

Though it may well be true that eternity moves as it will – unruffled by the arrogant bluster of my striving, deaf to all my self-seeking noise, thankless in the face of all my apparent wisdom – the quiet and graceful mathematics of the universe will be rendered nigh divine by my overwhelming love for you.

Because of you there is music. And boundless beauty. All the nuanced strains of joy and despair. Every exquisite detail imaginable. You, my grain of sand, I shall adore – for in your fragile hands absolutely everything shall be held.

Though I may gaze into a cold infinity of stars it is when I wake in the night – you by my side – that I sense the splendour of things. That I truly am.

When even all of this is ash and silence and we are not even scratches on the skin of time, at least I will have loved you – and by my love I will have apprehended the fathomless beauty. That single, sustained, everlasting note of music which – when heard – becomes the song of being. To which I will have danced with you.

For if ever I am – so too are you.