What is a moment of love?

What is a moment of love?

Is it the first hint of a flower blooming? Or the wisp of mist perched on the cliff alongside the moon? Is it the rumble of a child’s tummy for home cooked dinner? Or the wide leap he makes across the puddle to make his father proud? Is it the blackest sheen on a raven’s wings or the held in tear of a lover in yearning? Is it a stranger reaching across the geographical divide through the digital form as one would take confession in an empty church? Is it the butter frying a sunny side egg wafting through the air a reminder that we are not alone?

Is it your dream witnessed by me reminding you not to fade into oblivion? I believe your imagination. I marvel at how you stitch your world together with beads and paint and feathers in a mechanical time. I encourage your steps into the meadows of flowers with your determination knowing that you will bring back your medicine. I whisper to the muses of the mountain tops to fill your heart and color your soul until all your utterings are distilled into songs of ecstasy praising this creation.

I dry your butterfly wings from the storms of birth and death and apply the golden glitter that makes them happily flutter once again. I see from your eyes the wonder of children hidden and huddled in the feathers of your choosing, I sing you your birth song that you may not forget why you had come. Let the cherry blossoms shower you as you whisper your incantations to the long eared owls. Sit still as a samurai if that is your choosing. Allow me to make love to you that tenderness is forever etched into your soul.

Laugh loudly amongst the snails as you roll on the fur of a desert sheep. Skip along the horizons of water and land as vermillion skies make way for star seeds. Open your arms so the peacocks can land revealing the jewel you are. Remove the walls between you and me and let the horses dance with the roses.

I am listening to your secrets. By the fire, the words crackle. I hear your wounds searching for redemption in the steam room. The temples are everywhere. Look for me at the grocery store or the gas station, where you least expect to meet the God in you. Drop your knowledge and stand together with me on the edge of knowing so we can fly together in our falling.

The light is coming. Will you play with me in its nuanced reflections?

Happy new year dear ones. May 2017 be a dawn of a new creation.

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