Perhaps the only thing we can be sure about is that we can't be sure about anything. I guess that's just my way of saying that the following is possibly no more than a humble opinion: I think that we are too much about love to be anything other than Love itself. I'm not just referring to romantic love. We are continuously fascinated by and involved with every facet of this particular emotion. So much so that it seems to me that the Oneness that everything is may very well be the energy of Love.
In honour of Love, Valentine's Day, and all those who leave as lovers and return as friends, I'm posting this love story from The Hard Won Hush. A few years ago, it was created as a birthday present, and now I'm passing it on to you, dear reader, as a Valentine. And it comes with a wish. May you be lucky enough to know true love at least once in your life, and may you always know the Love that you always are.
Gratitude (for Marian)
Seven green leaves fell
The day the angel spoke.
Though I recall no words
The images she held
Spiralled up into my eyes.
No brush, but a wand at work here
My lips mouthed Wow.
My childlike mind
In its strangely complex way
Told my spirit
That my heart
Was simply delighted.
Seven feathers floated down
Through those few romantic years.
Collecting crow dreams
That, in time
Watched us fly away
We didn’t know
As no one knows
That certain forms of beauty
Cannot glide forever.
But I heard the angel sing
And was held within her wings
And rhymed a song or two
Between moments
Of blind, wide-eyed love
And truly seeing oneness.
For as the emerald eyes
Turned toward the light
As the body’s shadow map
Caught the candle’s flicker
A facet of the Goddess jewel
Told the long awaited story
Of the shorter road home.
Seven whispers on the wind
Breathed family and forever
As daughter became the Mother
And mother became the child.
So warm within that waiting
That gathered us together
So deep within our growing
The greatest of adventures
That the world seemed to cradle all three
And postpone all the anythings
Other than Magic
Till we lived out
In peace
Our dearest of dreams.
I saw the angel
Give birth to our son.
I saw them together
In uncommon moments
Where love makes a space for what matters.
And I cannot truly reach
The feelings I had
With bridges of words
Or rippling strings.
Wonder has its own lovely language of tears
And it wells up from within
The place where we’re God
Till we let go of needing
To speak or explain.
Seven stormclouds gathered
For the darkness long in coming
And the spectre lay in wait
Till its ambush of obsession
Timed to cause the most destruction
Stole the sparrows’ sun sparked wings
Stole the river’s curve and flow
Stole the life tree’s centred sway.
And through it all
The angel tried
Till trying lost its way.
So we settled into something
When the danger finally passed
A kind of odd repeating rhythm
Of old hurts and new hope.
Both faded.
And through it all
The angel waited
Practised patience and compassion
Showed her love at every turn
Said, “Though I cannot be your sky
I will not let you fall”
And I have learned how powerful
A different love can be.
Seven spells of evolution
Swirl outside my battered door
Battered on the inside
From attempts at escape.
But the Light shines through the cracks.
Soon, I’ll feel
The barrier break
Falling into fragments
Then dust underfoot
Then footprints fading.
I’ll welcome the rush and return
I’ll welcome the end of an old reality
I’ll welcome the wizard I’ve always been.
And through it all, again
The angel, my listener
My encouraging crutch
Who never once laughed
At all my new beginnings
At all my crazy flights and falls
At all the schemes that others
Behind their unconscious constructions
Carelessly call fantasy
And the ravings of fools
My angel will smile
Since she always knew
That the path and I
Would eventually find
Each other.
Seven words phrase the questions.
Is there a hidden crossroads
Up ahead?
Will Spirit abandon memory
By the roadside?
Will our luminous bodies
Flow into one?
Perhaps not.
Seven notes sing
All possible tunes.
The traditional has never been our way.
Though we may not be lovers
We love just the same.
We are determined to be free
But not of each other.
Wherever I go
I know you’ll be there.
By your side
I have learned
What might have been missed.
With your help
I have found
What was so long hidden.
Gratitude seems like such a little word
Like a small flying thing
Set free from my hands
But I know no better metaphor
That means as much to me
Than a sparrow taking flight
Leaving earthbound life behind.
Thank you lover, friend, and angel
For the example of your wings.
Feel free to share this post
Follow us
