There Are Many Mysteries

Sit across the way with me, and hear this truth.

There are many things for which I have no answers. How I got here, across from you, in this moment in time. How I became so blessed to see your smile as my heart melts all over me. How I get to hear your laugh echo in the silence of the dark. How I knew you before I saw you, and why our wide and winding paths have brought us to this wonderful field.

There are many mysteries throughout our lives. Those unexplainable flowers standing indignantly in the concrete. Those wonderful blades of soft grass found suddenly on rocky soil at the very time we need to rest. Those springs of clear water appearing suddenly in a sheer rock’s face in the moment we thirst the most. You. Me. Here. Now.

Universes born within the promise of possibility, we are. Colliding stars that give rise to the enormous promise of answered dreams, we remain. There are no answers as to what brought the Sun and Earth together, just the results etched in the stone of one potential reality.  There is you, and there is me, both smiling at each other as we hold the reins of something we cannot control, the possibility of diving deep into the certain unknown without a lifeline to the surface.

There are many questions that we can’t answer, but there are many answers that have been laid out before us. I have vivid memories walking against to tornadic wind, my skin pierced by tiny shards of ice, those wounds left stinging by the pelting drops of rain. I remember the silence of the pain, the lonely sobs of a heart being challenged, the testament of a scream in the night as all I knew was being destroyed by petulant winds.

What I know is the sunshine when I see it, and lovely pastures unlittered by the debris of my mind. I value the safety of walking barefoot in the fields where no nail can pierce my skin, where no splintered shard of wood can leave me bleeding in the grass. What I know is the feeling of your voice, the essence of your laugh, the beauty in a face I’d love to see each and every one of my remaining days. While the why may be a mystery, the truth remains nothing of the sort.

A man who has taken his lashes to experience his freedom values both the lash and the freedom. A man who has the scars of battles wages holds firm to the peace he has attained. A man who has lost everything stands firm in the fields where all he is have been planted. The birth of that field remains a mystery, but the truth of where he stands is nothing of the sort.

I remain the man, bare naked and vulnerable in front of you, demanding nothing but stating the simple truths for which he lives; knowing completely the promise of the gift he sees in your eyes. A man like that cannot take that promise for granted, for simple is he who wants to own nothing but the truth. The winds have brought this ship to your shore for a purpose that will, one day, cease to be a mystery.

Then, you may see the Universe extended you a hand, and it may look just like mine. The Universe offered you support, and it took form as my waiting arms. The Universe offered you the love you were seeking, and it looked just like me.

Know this truth, that eternal spring of nourishment which we both have sought, that binds us here and now to the ripples we shall send. Know the smiles of an old man to the love of his life and an embrace of a once empty cup to the water it was made to hold. Know the certainty and safety of a warrior who has found a home within your heart, who does not want to leave, but would rather build a village where you stand.

And there, the mystery ends and the greatest story ever told remains. That is, but once, where the mist takes shape and the mystery comes alive.

And there, it all makes sense even to the sanest ones we know.

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