Tag Archives: Euphoria

They are all you

Ever since I met you, I have always known. It is not that they are shadows, nor you their ghostly forebear. Neither do they replace you, or simply stand in your place. They shall not follow in your wake, nor wear thy lovely crown. The shiver of your love shall not be stilled in their embrace…for they are all you.

Now that I have tasted skin and mouth, woken in their warmth, I know it even more. When I am dancing at their side, dazzled with the shine, very nearly blind, this is what I find. They are all you, my love. They are all you.

In slanted light – in the golden, diagonal hand – I watch the lifted motes in beams, the graceful math of their floating; and with my quiet wonder I see it clear. They are all you.

And when, to the chorus of birds, in my song-filled garden, I bend to pick the fallen feather, I sense for a moment the thrill of their flying. I watch as they ascend, as if to a beat in a hidden hymn, and I know it, as they know the wing. For they are all you, my love. They are all you.

Hear now, the distant bell. Beauty come in waves. The cells of my body in tune. Your invisible signature, like time. Yes, even the sound, and the silence that makes it known…they are all you.

For I have breathed it in; this air of your ever present absence. In my lungs, in my blood, in my heart and my brain. In marrow and sinew, viscera and derma. All these scurrying parts, they bring me to your door, as ever they have. I feel them as your tender touch, like whispers you exhale. Again, my skin will go to bumps and you will pass right through me, and I will know it over and over.

They are all you, my love. They are all you.

Love letter # 422

Yes, I hear them. I know what they’re saying. I can even understand why they say it. But they don’t know. They have mistaken appearance for substance. Their judgement is coded in the beliefs they have about themselves. Their cynic’s wisdom is a cleverly clothed self-loathing. So do not worry, I hear them but do not believe. For you have shown me the beautiful paradox; and together we have discovered that the glory of the song lies between the notes. Our house is not made of walls…but of the space they map. Let them have their landmarks, their names and tags, their tiny, ring-fenced world. We can glimpse the more that isn’t more. The thing that isn’t a thing. The present that is always absent. We can leave it all behind, right now, and have everything in return.

Love letter # 413

It’s like one of those Phil Spector, Wall of Sound, girl group songs. Rapturous, romantic, almost innocent. Such an intense swoon. An immense wave of light headed ecstasy. Heart like those crashing drums, blood buzzed with overwhelming electricity. I could dance all night. Maybe forever. As long as you are near.

So yeah – that’s what it feels like with you. Like leaves will never fall and fanciful dreams turn out true. As if, in the blink between the blissed out beats, nothing is beyond us – and we are young again and everything is laid out plain as day, all the while the sweet songs play. For we are like the needle poised, ready to spin and soar and be alive.

Love letter # 664

The look in your eyes tells me everything I need to know. Your lips communicate, with soft pressure, the core truth. There is no call for a label. For a flag or an ism. For a placard or an ‘identity’. We are in not in need of causes and walls and us‘n’them markers. There is no acronym for us. We simply see one another and are seen in return. The doors are open, the windows unblocked, the borders dissolved. We have dispensed with the myths of perfection and perfidy, smashed the shiny altar of baubles. We are not the things we carry, nor the names they call us. The only people here now are you and I. Flowers in the mirror of being. So let’s hold hands, let’s go where we may; and leave the rest of them to bicker over the wording.

Love letter # 768

I saw you before your eyes sought me out, heard your song before you said my name. I saw you in the sea before there was an island. I sensed the onset long before the rain. The signs of you were clear before you spelled it out. You had reached across the space between us without the need for hands. For I was falling in advance of you. My love in bloom in the long, quiet winter. Before a single word had thawed the darkened ground. And then we met, and I knew.

Love letter # 442

For you I need look no further. You are in my blood, electricity in my fibres. You are made of the same sinew, and in the subsoil of my being you have grown to fruition.

When I am dancing, you are the animator. When I sing of love it is with your voice. When it matters, it is because of you.

If I once dreamt of you, now you are awakened inside me. Now I search no more; for you are evoked by simple thought. The world does not contain you, except that it contains me. You are no longer the other but instead are me, as I am also you. Two but one; one but two.

Like sand, lime, soda and fire – we have become glass, from which this mirror is carved. Dirt and flame, earth and star – blood and love. And thence, upon seeing…seen.