When I first learned ecstasy could be found on the other side of moonlight I thought of you. Remember the rule of our love falling out of the sky? Doing unto you. Having done unto me. Both dropped away on that night when even the cicadas ceased their chatter to listen to the sounds of our passion. Yes, there will always be those who would build up rigid walls of dogma around meaning and have God all to themselves. We knew on that moonlit night long ago the intention behind how the stars move and, shivering, turned our distant gaze within each other's eyes into a dance.
Proper maintenance of patience lies in wait around the next corner. Go. Carefully. Stepping as if with the next blink of your eye you will miss everything. Be. Wonderfully. Do not worry. You have left the monsters to storm out of the closet into thin air. Love. Abundantly. Let others be impatient wondering where your love will be given next.
How many times must I do unto others before what I wish to have done to me happens before my very eyes?
We receive our first blessing when the boy living down the street asks us to be his girlfriend. My daughter came inside for the evening glowing with all future possibilities embraced into the joy of being cared for. She shared the unexpected news before taking off her shoes and we danced together with the front door still open. How many times have our hearts been made whole and for how long do we frolic before laying our heads down?
Tears dropped in the wilderness clear a space for the fertile craving to return home. Not much changes from year to year; perhaps the peace of some small movement into what used to be a dark space surprises us. We ask, What was that all about? A time for suffering to mark all suffering in the desert? Our gifts create temptation and there is a difference between being loved and loving and looking at a loved one standing beyond the bright surrounding sunlight.
I said, "I have decided to give my life the title 'Extreme Experiments.'" She said, "Funny, I don't consider myself extreme or experimental." I said, "But you have given me the possibility to recognize a grander perspective." She smiled. "Two people. Peculiar lives. Some shared space and time spent in each other's arms makes all the difference." I smiled, too. "I had no idea this conversation was going to turn into a love letter." She said, "As one brilliant mind wrote, 'We complex people cannot retreat to blockish simplicities.'"
To dad I really Love you. xoxoxoxoxo xoxoxo. I think you are the best dad for me. I hope you had fun at Chicago. and thank you for getting this note book for me & cori. I like it very much. Love your Baby Sydney
Lover of all, who sends the rain and the sun and the shine of the stars and the bears out of the woods, define "love" or "Love"; for some would consider a mauling a "loving" act for wanton name-calling against your anointed prophet and others, horrified, denounce your creation crying, There is no love. Amen.
to lean back against the one i love and feel weariness and worries soften into wonder to lower the volume of my own heart's hate and breathe into the questions to see that all things have two temperatures to apologize for callousness aimed at sounds of rejoicing different from those I make to forgive to allow flourishing
Rememberer, who writes with a finger of fire on our forgetful hearts, do not depart from us when we no longer look back on the days that are surely coming, for we cannot see what is written there on the hearts of others and, confused, continue to confound remorseful contrition with wounding indifference. Amen.