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"Our lives are a book that has already been written. The brilliance of the plan is that we are only given a chapter at a time..." ~A. Drayton Boylston

Thursday, July 02, 2015

Faraway Love

Faraway love, where are you now?

Perhaps you sleep near an open window, calmly and peacefully, as the night breeze evokes its music from the trees.  From deep within the rustling leaves, cicadas serenade your secret dreams.  High above you, nighthawk chases nighthawk beneath the moon's light, their wings waxing silver with beams.And the spirit that whispers to you on that untamed wind is mine.

Perhaps you sit silently, contemplating the heavens, basking in the warmth of their light.  Do you see the winter sky? It is there, just to the right and a little behind the summer sky.  It is true that from where you sit you cannot see the stars in my eyes.  But if you look with your heart, you can see my eyes in the stars.

Do you walk some lonely mountain road, lost in a reverie?  Look about you.  Do the wildflowers grow as vibrant and tall as you would have them?  Or do they seem inferior somehow, perhaps less enticing than other wildflowers you have known?  Stop to smell them.  Become one with their beauty.  Revel in their abundance, in their marvelous hue and fragrance.  Recline among them and rest in their arms, for they are my essence.

Do you teeter at the edge of a great precipice, eyes wide with apprehension, stunned at the enormity of the gorge?  Does your heart flutter when you think of dislodging from your precarious perch; of falling, falling downward, ever downward, until you are swallowed whole by it and exist no more?  Fear not.  Stand tall in your bravura.  How can you come to harm when the gods wait alongside to catch you?  Spread your arms wide into the vast chasm, confidently, without hesitation, and embrace the well of my understanding.

You might be rafting down a white water canyon, awed by the splendor and grandeur which surround you.  You drift along, exhilarated by the ride, the sun full on your face.  And you are there; you exist only in that moment, as completely as if you are the moment itself.  Reach out and touch the cool water.  Hear the whisper of the ages as it rushes past; let the stream ripple through your fingers.  Capture it in your hands and worship its very existence.  Splash it on your face, let it run down your strong neck in search of your chest.  Welcome it into all the secret recesses of your being.  Let the water soothe you and caress you, and fill you with new life.  It is my Love.

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