The moment.
The moment I’m sitting next to you. The moment when your arms are around me and your head rests softly on my chest. The moment I feel your breath on my skin. The moment I taste your lips. The moment I feel your words even before I hear them.
I live for those moments. I long for each in what seems like eternal gaps between them. It is a lover’s dilemma, this man’s silent suffering.
Before you, I knew the purpose to my aloneness. Now, I see no sense to it save the process I’ve come to trust. I look at the empty spaces beside me knowing they are yours. Where once I enjoyed their emptiness now I fill them with our knowing. Where once I sat gazing at nothing all I see is what we are – a promise need never spoken, an eternal gaze at tomorrow.
Before that moment of our first embrace, I understood the value of my solitude. Now I hear the silence as our song, a hymn written through the tears of yesterday breathing life into the possibility we now share. I adored the single set of footprints on the paths I once walked. Now I know they were heading in your direction, longing for the moment when we could share the view.
One day as we sit alongside a stream throwing rocks toward their destiny, our minds will drift back to times before. Before, when our spaces were empty. Before, when our minds would wonder to dreams of moments where we’d be sitting alongside a stream, throwing rocks towards their destiny. Before, when all we could do was hope.
I’ll want to kiss you. Kiss you in honor of all of those moments I begged the empty air for you. Kiss you in memory of all the times the ether would tease me with dreams of you. Kiss you in gratitude for your arrival, and for the moment your lips finally met mine.
Two souls who live in a lover’s dilemma. Suffer as we might in our absence we rejoice with equal vigor in our kiss. Suffer as we will in thoughts of times that passed we shall find bliss in a realization of our moments together. Suffer as we do in times we walk alone we will dance in joy together, as it was always intended to be.
My words, these words, I am blessed to offer as I take the truth of things that swirl around my soul and translate them into the truth of things I share. Blessed am I, a purveyor of divine inspiration, to have found such a muse in you. Blessed am I, a simple man who shoulders the complexities of his mind, to have kissed the lips of my dreams, and held the flesh of my life in arms made strong for the task.
The moment. The moment that is near, the moment that is coming. The moment great stories are birthed from. The moment I saw you.
How I do envy the muse, who could inspire this.