Thursday, January 09, 2014

Poetry

"You do what you do. Flirt with everyone. The way you talk to any person, the janitors, the office women, even the boy at the coffee shop, the things you say to cheer them up and make them smile."
"With just a smile at the right time. But what about..."
"You do what you do. If they try anything untoward, then you leave them to me."
"Haha, well, yeah... I mean. Wait... Yes. Yes, that's exactly right. That is what you do. You do what you do. And it is right, when it is definitely right."
"Exactly."

Imagine you are on an outcrop of a very steep hill, sitting down after finishing that last goat path up. Cleaning out the small grit and rocks from crevices in your hands, you look at the small pieces left behind when you think you've wiped them clean enough. Little glass fragments, tiny pieces of sand's guts, colors of light unthreaded and cast off, and the craters and dents of larger things now gone. What remains of a climb when you dust yourself off but the view and the traces? Who are you at that altitude that you weren't farther below? When you ascend to the limit where all is view and sky and shrubs and rocks, who will you wish to be there?

It's a little of the stroke of the unusual to think about how to mature and grow into a man who is responsible and protective with his heart, when for so long the idea and goal was to release what had been chained. The unusual is learning how different a vow is when there's no one else requiring it. All of the freedom to be this truth, but it will not be a freedom grounded in trust unless it first has a limit fundamental to recognize. There is no duty in this. Consequently, there is no tension between conflicting sets of passions or even desires. It is not even a test or a temptation this way. There just isn't any force to the horizon pushing inward.

It's not a wall, a boundary of denial keeping inside all this force of nature tearing me apart to learn even greater lessons. Hardly. It is the sky stretching onward and outward, at once the passage to the eternal heavens of the stars and galaxies and joyful assuring dark, at once the canvas of vapors, giants, towers, and cat-tussled cotton. It is the framework for knowing what the climb has been, a limit only because infinity she has her curves and brings all things to that line.

So this is why I know you're not acting from insecurity. It's not jealousy in the worst sense. This is how you show me what makes the adventure possible, why you share it with me, and how all that I live and do will always be wrapped within your sphere forever falling into me, falling into this, falling into our love.

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Is this wise?
Is this yours?
Is this love?

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