Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Bed (an inspired essay)

Clearly, I am not in one.

I would like to be in one... I'd like to be in yours. I'd like to be curled up against you, feeling you breathe, nestled into the smell of your skin, your hair, the curve of your neck, your chest rising and falling beneath my arm, the solidity of you reminding me that you are . indeed . real.


I can say with certainty that I love who you are. I have no fear of the word Love, I have a commitment to the word Love. I want to take the word Love and explode it into dozens of tiny pieces, each new shape reflecting a different aspect of what it is to be human and to Love. This feeling is too dense for a single word - at any moment it may collapse into a black hole of compounded meaning.


So when I say that I love you, you must listen for the resonance that speaks from soul to soul without words. It will tell you that the world is better with you in it, that I honor and admire you, that I have expanded from having met you, like a blossoming star just awakening to the constellation of its birth. It says that there is Home in you, a stillness I crave, a confidence I own, and possibilities that leave me speechless... over and over again.


Speechless. Is that not the best of communication in action? Language is inadequate to express the many-faceted gem of this emotion, red as a garnet's blood, blue as the melancholy of longing, purpled with frustration, green as barely-closeted desire, bright with joy, deep as the peace of a home-bound heart, and sharp enough to cut. It is a gift borne of you that my words fail.


God's greatest joke indeed, should this be all I ever experience of you, but I would take it and never look back, hold it to my chest until I radiated and shone and was ... what? In your eyes I know that I am Seen. I fall into those eyes each time I hear your voice, your laugh, your whisper (shhhhhhhhh...) and I have come to love the sound of your smile.


Bed. It awaits me, built of the promise that soon I will wake and say, with love, "Good morning, Sir."

M. Makael Newby, 2009 - All Rights Reserved