Making Love

Okay so the confession comes out. I have lied to myself for so long. I will admit it. I have been pretending to be what I really am. I am a poet, and artist a writer and then some -yes a lover of the most infinite kind. I thrive in creativity, die in stagnation, whither in hatred and melt in beauty.

I relish mornings kissing the sun as it kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips, my chest, my belly, my legs, my toes. I meditate inside my lids, as fluid lights sooth my mind. I live in awe constantly of the beauty found in the rippling of tide as they crash against the shores, my temples, my shores, my temple’s melody sings like the symphony of birds in v formation -I take flight.

This morning, after hours of conversation I retreated to the waters, the shores, the sand, the still of dawn, the solitude of exploration. Truth be told…I was on a mission to throw any sorrow into the ocean so that it could be pulverized into granules of sand, just about the right size to slip through finger tips. I wanted to reclaim my soul, marry myself and be the lover. As I sat on the cliff I couldn't help but to be in awe of the magnificent and powerful body that lay before me. Wet and hard it crashed against the rocks, the shores it came over and over and over the dew claimed earth.

My attempt was to reconnect to the piece of me that is without shelter, without callous to prevent pains…that soft and delicate piece of me called my heart. We know that this is a powerful muscle,vital and nurturing and the doorway to the sol!