When I touch you, gaze upon your face, I see love incarnate, love up close, the living dream unfolded and alive. I am filled completely by the magic of your smile. No, it's not a spell cast by a force unknown or one known: it is raw heat, wild like lightening, but harmless. It is a thing rare to man, something not hidden but something unsought because it is feared. Great love leaves nothing to chance. It opens wide all its doors that the breeze may enter from all directions. It is feared because it is exposed, defenseless. It knows no barriers, not even that of trust. It is like space, seemingly empty, seemingly weak, yet all things move and live and have their being in it. I do not know its source yet I dare not say no to it. I am blinded by it, yet I see clearly. It has rendered me deaf, yet I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it's song. Compared to its gentle warmth, my heat is like cold steel. It isn't love of you but love as you that makes this heart complete. I am defenseless, open, gladly bound by freedom. Even d**h has lost its power, for love is greater than d**h, greater than loss, larger than any desire but does not leave me wanting in the end. It is not your kiss for which I yearn, nor your embrace, for these things go no further than the outward shell. It is that unnamed thing within, so deep and human, that seeks our union by means of a kiss and an embrace.
Love awakened to its limit in man and woman creates them both, raising the powers of nature to their greatest height. No. It's not a dream, a fantasy sought by lost, unloving souls, but the very meaning of living. For if the man can't love the woman with his whole heart he cannot also love the tree, the river and the purple moon. I do not fear losing you. How can I lose what is born in each pa**ing moment? And when your body moves out of present sight I will not mourn, for how can love die, and how can life? I am not deceived by the outer dream, the game, the rising and falling of reality. My love, like all true love, is love itself and knows no limit, not being bound by the whims of flesh. I smile as I watch you sleep--hair spread across the pillow and body curled up like a little child captured in its mothers love. And I wonder to myself how we can live this life never seeing love's total grace and beauty, its sanctity in the eyes of another, in the gentleness of her soft hand, and the playful curve of her smiling lips. Perhaps we look too deeply, or know not for what we look. It could be that we fear abandoning ourselves to the uncertainties of love's movement. Sleep on now. Take your rest. Let the shadow wander to some distant place where light flourishes and dwells as small children waiting to be born.