Category: Short Stories (Page 32 of 46)

Softly whispered, never spoken, yet forever known.

That’s true love. That’s pure honesty at its best. A truth you know in your heart not in the words spoken, but in the words unspoken. A truth you feel not just in every cell of your existence, but in every space between. Come, dance with me there and lean to my ear as you whimper tender mercies of a body living its soul’s demand.

“I love you.”

I can see it in the pools of her eyes. Something deep within me, beyond what she can see, feels something deep within her, beyond what I can see. There’s a truth there, subtle explosions of a new reality composed in a natural order like some great, perfect symphony. Unseen power flows through subtle reminders of its presence. In the raised bumps of our skin, we are reminded. In the natural flow of words and in the wispy trails of discovery, we are reminded. In the rising tide of our arousal we are reminded, and in the promise of things to come we lose ourselves to a truth we have surrendered to.

You can feel those moments when the puzzle pieces snap together, when the stars align and the heavens call your name. You can sense when one foot wants to fall in front of the other, when the emptying hourglass gives way to something beautiful, undeniable, and somewhat insane. There, in those orderly storms we find in the place where Yin meets Yang, you know. The soul knows. It always knows.

To which song we choose to dance is anyone’s guess. Yet, the moment is here, and now, and ours for the taking. Which notes we choose are ours to select, and to which fate this moment bears is within our dreams to hold. There is no tomorrow; there is no past.  For lovers born there is only the moment and the lyrics softly whispered, never spoken, yet forever known.

→♥←

Why won’t you talk to me? Why won’t you tell me what is wrong?, she asked.

Because I love you, he responded.

Why won’t you accept my apology for being scared, for being addicted to my drama, for wanting to embrace the fear that has dominated my life?

Because I love you. Because I love me.

Why won’t you help fix me, be my strength when I am weak, be my ears when I grow deaf, be my breath when I cannot breathe?

Because I love you. You are not broken, you are perfect. You are not weak, you are strong beyond measure. You are not deaf, or blind, or anything else, you simply choose to keep your ears and eyes closed. I cannot give you air when it is you who is holding your own breath. I love you enough to allow you to discover these things not through me, but through you.

Why are you so distant? Why are you being so cold?

Because I love you. I have little interest in the tattered, rotting layers of fabric you’ve wrapped yourself in. Beneath them is the light I’ve grown to love, the song I love to hear. I love you there, and I am so close to you there that I cannot be close to you anywhere else. I accept the layers, but cannot embrace them and you at the same time. Let go of them, and see me where I am, right there next to you. Hold them tightly, and see there is no room in your embrace for anything else.

But they’re part of me.  You cannot love me without loving them, too.

Ah, but I can. Because I love you, I cannot love them.  They are not part of you; you have told yourself so many times that you and they are one that you now believe the lie. You’ve adopted them as your limbs, leaned on them as your crutch, and created an entire existence based on the stories they tell.  I tell you, that because I love you I can see the entire truth. You are not the noose you place around your neck, or the shackles you place around your ankles. You are the executioner and the jailer, but you are not the gallows nor the prison.

Why don’t you just accept me, for me, and love me for who I am?

Because I love you. Through your protests and your tantrums I have loved you. Through your delusions and your fantasies I have loved you. I can’t, and I won’t, carry the crosses you have built and decided to carry. I accept you, but cannot accept them. They are yours, and yours alone, and you choose them all. If you think it isn’t painful to watch, if you think it isn’t hard not to take them from you, you are wrong. Yet, because I love you, I am willing to simply watch you struggle so that you can choose either to cast them aside onto the ground, or continue to carry them as if they have worth.  These are your lessons to learn, and I can’t take them from you and love you at the same time.

Because I love you, I will listen to you suffer under the weight of your own devices. Because I love me I will recoil when you try to hand them to me. When you try to cover me with those rotting, tattered layers of fabric you have wrapped yourself in, the light within me will burn them away, and you will become angry. You will say horrible things, you will do horrible things. You will try to use your fear to force me to grasp, you will try to use your pain to injure me. Yet, because I love you and because I love me, it will not work. I will focus on our light, and bask in its glory.

Yes, because I love you, because I love me, I let them be as they are while remain rooted in who I choose to be. We deserve nothing less than to walk as one in the experience of our own individuality discovering our complete Oneness. Is there a greater cause for which we live?

In the blink of an eye the journey changes, or so it seems. In one moment you are firmly attached to the ground, walking with purpose upon the cleared path of your life, and the next you are falling, freely, through wispy air toward some uncertain destination. Sometimes you flap your arms wildly in a vain attempt to halt your flight until, finally, you stop and enjoy the ride. Your laughter replaces your cries for help, and your attempts at grasping the air are replaced with a simple acceptance that, sometimes, you have no control.

A pesky something pushes you from your grounded path and over some unseen cliff. A pesky something gives you nothing to grasp, nothing to hold on to, while giving you that awesome feeling in your gut as you fall. Here, it’s not about the landing, but the falling.  The landing will take care of itself.

Love.

To fall freely beyond your comfort zone is to find the greatest comfort. To plunge heart first through the thinnest of air is, well, fear converted into the most awesome experience. To let go is to find something worthwhile to embrace, and to finally trust that all you have experienced will bring you where you need to be is to take flight among the stars. To let it all happen as it was meant is something to behold, and to finally feel the rush of air around you as something meaningful and desirable is something you discover to be all you have ever wanted.

Yes, that love is something.

To have felt your lover before arrival, is to realize the importance of letting to. You find your heaven in your empty arms as you reach for her, and you find your truth in the empty places in your life that she will surely fill. You have not given up, you have not surrendered, you have simply waited for her arrival.

You know it’s time. You know it was all supposed to be, so you let it happen. You open your arms and let her in, and as the air rushes around you her warmth guides you to the happy places in the ether. You hear her laughter in the roar that settles in your mind, and you feel her joy in your own. Yes, this place is where you have always been heading, and she has always been there.

That’s something.  That is love’s something.

In the heart of a man so in tune with what he feels, sometimes the feeling is all he has. It’s like a spark in need of fuel or a flicker in the darkness that needs someone to see it. He can feel her hand in his, her head on his shoulder. He can feel everything he has ever written about or thought about or believed existed swirl around him like a loving storm. There is no rhyme or reason to the rain, there are no clouds and there is no thunder, yet the man is being soaked to the bone as he falls through the clear air. The chills are warm, the unknown becomes comforting, and nothing ever again feels as it did. He forgets the path he was on, and willingly chooses this new one as the way he must go. His fear highlights his courage, and his uncertainty magnifies all that he has ever known.

There are moments in one’s life that define it for some time, and there are microcosms in those moments that change his eternity. Sometimes it is a quiet prayer that results in a fall from his cliff. Sometimes it’s the patience chosen until it feels right to move. Sometimes it’s a gusty wind that pushes him over the edge, or a quick glimpse of a desired future that gives him the courage to leap. Whatever it is, it happens, and everything changes.

That love is something, huh? When you are willing to finally let it take over you are free to let it do its thing. When you are finally willing to leap it will take you to where you need to go. It will all make sense then, and you will finally be free to realize just how worth it the journey has been.

Enjoy it. It’s something. 🙂

To hold me,

Now, then, forever,

In the vestibule of nature’s wonder,

Is to never let me go.

We are there, in that special place of ours, among the trees and the plants and the animals and the sky. We are without the distractions of our lives, focused intently on the meaning of them rather than on the inane things we used to define the living. In the thinly walled cabin we lay, naked and without reservation, under heaven’s starry gaze, in the grips of Nature as she holds us tightly.

We make love on the top of a mountain, rooted in the sounds our Nature creates around us and within us. We offer our gifts to one another, taking and giving, giving and taking, over and over again in the deepest way our souls know how. We embrace, we let go, we enter and we leave in the pure liberation of our Lover’s Song, and the world rejoices around us.

Two more powerful warriors history has never known, and we neither care for the role nor create it. We make love, and in turn it makes us. One.

Gaze into the windows of my soul

Forgetting not yourself in the song

But hearing who you are within its notes

Rise up, my Love, to stand and hear it played.

Such power we find in the salty stories of our sweat, and such openness we find in the many prayers of love’s holy book we sing! There is no place that exists outside the on which we stand, as One, in the divine fields of loving inspiration. The sweet harmonies flow through us, and we never stop until the final bar is played.

It is you; it is me, who realize our truth in the eternal form of rapture’s lyric. We hold firm to the releasing of truth, allowing it to change, to grow, to go, where it must and when it should, however it may need. Interference is a fool’s endeavor, and we have no need for the fool’s gold that chains that jester to the box of which he will never surely own. The song demands our flight, and the music requires our return to place we find each other. The embrace says it all.

In memories we shall not leave

This place, we cannot depart

Hold me, again, among our trees

And hear my beating heart.

Lover’s walk together for different reasons at different times. We share a truth here, that we have shared a journey of living’s will that has brought us to this place. Each and every step before has led us to where our feet lay now, intertwined, letting go of the grains of sand that have parted us for way too long. Each touch becomes a confirmation of the last, and each moment becomes a testament to the one before. Yes, it was all worth it; we are here in the Now frolicking as was always the intention. I would suffer a million more moments like the one before just to have this one, again, with you.

Hear the strong heart beating within my chest, and feel it throb throughout the all of me. You will know where my strength resides now, and you will forever feel your Lover’s song. Feel faith, know truth, and be wise to the soul that speaks to you. I am here.

Upon this hill we have found our heaven, on this hill we will make it last forever. Until then, I say to you, I love you so.

Peace.

What is this moment of distraction that has me falling into the soft, white whispers of my mind? What has pulled me out there again? What has created this attention back into insanity?

I can feel them whisper, and I want to change the song. Why?

Flashback to the boy so wanting the acceptance and respect of others. Stop the torment, stop the pain. I give you authority over me, and with it my own sense of responsibility. I allow you to own me, and I become your lap dog.

“How can I serve you Master,” I hear myself asking them. And they answer.

Back to reality. I am here, now, not there, then. I close my eyes and breathe.  I am a tree, and I feel my roots heading down into the Earth. I feel Her embrace me, and I feel renewed strength in my limbs, in my core. The fog lifts and I see my Self, again, and I smile.

The green-hued light that surrounds me allows the world to come alive within me. I am reminded of my power, my strength, and I see my path illuminated anew. I feel love surround me, gripping me like it was my own skin, my own flesh, and I know I have returned.

“I love you all.”

Love was always there, allowing me to see what I needed to see.  I am the masterpiece I have always wanted to be.

Realize. It. Now.

Peace.

I want to wake and feel you next to me. Feel you stir as my lips meet your shoulder, hear you moan in anticipation of the sunrise. I want to feel your warmth beyond the cold section of the sheets that separates us, and leave you unable to tell the difference between the reality of that moment and the dream that you were having.

I want to hold you, and then let you go. I want to see you run to me with that smile betraying your inner thoughts, and then feel your arms take me in before your lips devour mine. I want to feel you melt into me, and inhale your breath before sharing my own, knowing that each and every step we had ever taken led us to that very moment.

I want to hear about your day and laugh at your jokes before feeling your head collapse upon my shoulder. I want to know about your life, visit those places you rarely leave exposed, and share those parts of me that only you will know. I want to feel the rush of ecstasy as you spill your mind all over me. I want to bathe in the fragrance of your thoughts and then rise up, cleaned, to stare in awe at the woman you’ve become.

I want to walk with you into the places we both fear, sharing a torch of fearless love we both hold to light our way. I want to share a tremble when the frightening sides our lives venture out from the caves we have put them in, and then stand, fearless and undaunted, in the resolve to say, “You are not alone in this.”

I want to ride to your rescue, not because you need me to, but because you don’t. I want to offer you my hand in the firm promise that I am here, without expectation that you will take it. I want to tear apart the fearful binds that tie us to a place we do not wish to be. I will not offer you a pedestal on which to stand, for they are a prison of the harshest sort. Instead, I offer you the fields you wish to roam and the silence you wish to have in order to hear the music you want to dance to. I will not be the bars that hold you, but rather the wind that sets you free.

I want to hear the soft moan that involuntarily escapes your heart when the tips of my fingers find their way. I want to hear the song you hum when you are not paying attention, and see the skip in your step when you are lost in a moment of joy. I want to absorb the way your smile turns into that look you get when I hit the right spots, and remind you time and time again that pleasure is simply not an option, but rather a way of living.  I want to wash your body in the soft summer rains, and warm you when the winter chill sets in. I want to walk with you to see the first flower of spring, and then play in the lovingly discarded leaves of time when the autumn breeze blows.

I want to admire you when you sleep, and be admired by you when the call of desire wakes you from your slumber. I want to stretch with you and salute the sun. I want to sit still with you, knowing you are there as surely as the limbs I cannot see. I want to open the pearly gates of heaven we find when the two of us melt into one holy puddle of loving ecstasy in the spaces that we share. I want to know joy with you, and find a wisdom in all these things I want with you, yet have not yet discovered in my living’s path.

I know I have not asked for much. All of these words are nothing more than a brief flicker of a candle’s flame, a short glimpse of time created for such a purpose. Like a mountain stream created from the melting winter’s snow there is no work to be done. It simply is, and as love flows from the highest peaks down to the lowest valleys, we find it all so easy, so worthwhile, and so utterly necessary. That is what I want with you, and that is what we will find.

I recently had a conversation with someone who noticed my “OM” pendant (it’s a cool stone on a rope with the “OM” symbol etched in it.  She asked, “What does that mean?”

I generally don’t like to get too technical. If someone doesn’t know what the OM symbol is, I’ll just say “It’s a sound I sometimes use to bring me peace when I meditate.”

“Meditate? What is that?”

I’ll admit, it’s been a lifetime since I’ve been asked that question. This was quickly becoming a conversation that both reminded me of my roots and some of the many lessons that brought me here.

“I sit in stillness, observing my inner universe while letting go of it all.  Sometimes I used visualizations and mantras, others I just sit and watch,” I replied as simplistically as I could.

“Watch what? Like ghosts? Do you see ghosts?”

My inner mind sighed a heavy sigh.

“No, I don’t believe in ghosts. I’ve never seen one, and I value my experience. If I run into one then I’ll change my mind, until then I only believe in the living.”

“Then can you see the future? Are you a psychic?”

“No. I can’t see the future, I’m too busy seeing the present.”

“So, then, what religion are you? Catholic?”

I chuckled a bit at the Catholic reference.  If she only knew.

“None of them. I guess you can say I’m “spiritual” but have no need for religions.

“Hhhhmmmmm.  So then what does this “being spiritual” mean if it’s not a religion?”

There it was! Finally!! The entire place this conversation was leading.

What is “being spiritual” anyway?

For me, it is going to church without ever leaving the space I am in. It’s reading a sacred text not written in words, but in the sweet sounds and silence of my experience. It’s not about reading words written on fibers of paper, but about studying the word written on each and every fiber of my existence.  It’s about watching, participating, and loving every minute of the ride.

It’s about honoring my agreement to be happy, and to allow others to be happy. It’s about uncovering who I am through the layers of “me” offered by others from my birth. It’s about being strong enough to be weak, devoted enough to be undisciplined, and faithful enough to believe in nothing.

It’s about pealing away each splinter of wood in that basket covering my light, until there is little left of its frame.

It’s about not caring what others think, not because I have judged them as “wrong” or “bad”, but because I realize most of them are still living in the story others have created for them and I, simply, wish to create my own story of me. Living for them is an old habit I seek to break.

It’s about recognizing not only the stillness in the noise, but the noise in the stillness.  I know each from their opposite.

It’s about loving myself, truly and with great depth.  From that ocean rises the rains of love that I can pour over others.

It’s about understanding that fear is a liar, a crafty bastard designed by me to test my place and to give me reason to hold on tighter than what serves me. Fear helps me test the handhold before I place my weight on it, and is a valuable tool if used correctly.

It’s about my walks in the woods as being the only church I will ever need. It’s about finding a church in every space I happen to be. It’s about giving up religious faith and replacing it with experience. It’s about giving a fuck what happens to my space, my planet and my universe. It’s about the expression of love within me not found in any form of legal tender whatsoever, but in a new form of currency that can’t be overspent, can’t be saved, and can’t create greed. Love.

It’s about being impeccable with my word because my truth is so freaking beautiful.

It’s about not taking what others say or do personally. It’s about freedom from their concepts, and allowing them freedom from my own. It’s about being responsible for myself, and taking ownership of me. It’s about never taking responsibility or ownership of another person, their emotions or their way of life.

It’s about not making assumptions and finding the courage to ask the questions I need answered. It’s about being clear, and not trying to live up (or down) to what others may assume. It’s about liberation from the lie that I know everything, and that I am always right.

It’s about always doing my best. It’s about living in a way that promotes disciplines that contribute to my happiness, to my pure joy. It’s about staying true to my truth, and promote a peaceful existence within me that spreads to wherever my light may shine.

It’s about forgiveness. Not so much of others, but of myself. I must forgive myself for taking ownership of the actions of others. I must forgive myself for not always being impeccable with my word. I must forgive myself for making assumptions, and for not recognizing the stories that others tell are their stories, and only matter to me if I allow them to.  I must forgive myself for being fearful, for not being strong enough to express my pure, loving self to the world around me. I must forgive myself for not always trying my best, and for sometimes not taking full responsibility for myself. I must forgive myself for those moments when I did not love myself, when I found myself to be so unworthy of love that I pretended to be someone other than who I am. I am forgiven.

When I’ve done this, when I’ve forgiven myself and taken full responsibility, I have forgiven everyone I will ever need forgive. There is no need to forgive others, for any wrong I have ever perceived done to me I have done to myself. This practice has caused me to love everyone, including those I once felt wronged me. And it has allowed me to trust again.

Needless to say I didn’t state this entire description to answer my friend’s question. I simply said, “I’ll explain it sometime.  Let’s just say I try to love everyone, especially myself.”

After all, that’s quite a lot for some to chew on.

What do I love about you?

I could say that I love your smile; how it brightens the room and lifts the fog from the room. How your eyes tell a story of joy as your lips rise to meet them. How the clouds part and the sun rises when your soul shouts the praise of the ecstasy within you.

I could say that I love your body; how you seem to have been cut from a mold of my desire, how you waltz into my heart through my clear, open eyes.

I could say that love your mind; how your thoughts inspire me to greatness, how your wit moves the mountains of stubbornness from my thinking.

I could say that I love your soul; how it led you to me, how it speaks to me in languages I never thought I knew.

There is no distance I would not travel to get to you, nor any time that I would not wait for you. There is always one more breath I would take to hold you, and one more step in my tired legs in which I would carry you. That is what I love about you, what you inspire within me, about me, and around me. I love what you help me see, what I uncover by looking at myself through you, and what goodness I feel simply by hearing your name.

What I love about you is what I love about me, and what I love about me is what I have found in you. And I am grateful.