•damaged•
-My soul wakes to the sound of your heartbeat, I feel alive. This awareness ignites a fire of connection.
-I process... -I feel...
-I explode with passion. I am forever changed and forever damaged. -Damn, your love...
...I am reborn within the safety of your heartbeat.
•and we dance•
-There is an old tree that calls to me where I live. It has no leaves, the trunk is peeling, and one can see that the tree has cycled through its final seasons of life.
-In the morning I listen and watch the birds sing from the tip of the gray wobbly branches, not bothered by the absence of leaves and obvious decay. Under the moonlight, the glow shines around the tree giving it a beautiful outline against the dark night sky. What once was full of life, now doesn’t speak to me through the branch dances of the wind. It does nothing. A statue of what was and what is yet to come.
-Even though by all three dimensional accounts the tree is dead; I have never witnessed something more alive and free. There is a peaceful presence of wisdom, and the paradox of beauty -even after death.
-The limbs are long and thin towards the top. They reach toward the stars, as if wishing for a hug. The truck is sturdy and wide, but nothing intimidating. I stand in front of the tree admiring what’s left of its essence. Pondering what lessons it has rooted in the earth. This tree is magic, it’s here but not- I can see its aura on the other side.
-I admire its silence. The song of nothing and of everything. For a moment, life and death are as one and we dance.