Silent Lucidity

Quote of the day: Love is what magic will be when it grows up.

The quiet blanket of evening has settled around me again, as I sit here at this looking glass. The song my love has sent me playing in the dark, broken only by this screen, and a few flickering candles. And I marvel at peace.

There are many who go through their lives, never knowing what I feel right now. I don't have a heart anymore, it has melted and suffused my whole being with a soft radiant light. Do you remember? The first light of love in your life. All the colors seemed brighter, the smells fresher. Your feet scarcely touched the ground. And everything... was perfect.

I do. I remember because I'm 16 again. No. At 16 love was frantic and desperate, overwhelming in its intensity, and threatening to burn you alive at your core. Instead, I feel.. complete. Whole.. Perfect. I know thats been a theme for me today, and laugh if you will, or roll your eyes in cynicism. I can only feel sorry for you, and give you the fondest wish I could have for friend or enemy. May love find you, and change everything. May everything you thought you knew, everything you thought you believed, break like waves upon the shore. Only to reveal a greater truth than anything you ever hoped to see.

For myself.. I walk the green-lit path beneath summer oaks, the sweet rich smell of life in my nose. Every bird sings its songs for me, and they all sing the same word. Zarhah. And if any of you reading this who know her had any question left as to who the light of my heart may have been, its answered now.

We've spent time talking this week, getting to know each other more with each passing day. And yet it feels more like we're getting to know each other again. A familiar presence, the other part of me come home again. I keep trying to tell myself that in my heart I'm falling too fast, too hard. But really, is there such a thing? If it all feels so right, why shouldn't it be? And I emphasize 'trying'. Because my heart isn't listening, it doesn't care. It knows what it wants, and it knows the word that fills its every moment to overflowing.

We talk of quiet evenings, and changing oil, and sitting on the porch, weaving, singing, and watching the sunset. We talk about movies, and the lives we've led. We talk about good sense seeding life on some other planet, as its long since left our side. And all of it feels like coming home.

We follow the roads of our life, and sometimes we take the wrong twists and turns, and wind our way through dark forgotten backroads where the roads are unkempt and potholed. And when we come out of our wilderness, we find this path, that seems to have been there all the time, waiting for us. And when the warmth shakes off the chill of the darkness, and the sun hits our face, and the winds reach up and caress our backs, urging us along, welcoming us home at last. What can we do but just follow?

Set foot to path... and walk into the future.