Sunday 30 March 2014

Threads

Air of mystery clings to the greying fog that clouds your view on life perspectives. So, it is surely time to transport ourselves away from this colourless scene and to jump into something so warm and different. Away from the ominous HP Lovecraft. We'll say 'hip-hooray' for all the newness that is to follow. Where are we off to first my adventurous companion, there's far too much choice but we have to start somewhere.

First, let's set the table to the music of our hearts, a harmonica and a good beat that my fingers could never keep up for long. That's what friends are for, to keep the drum drumming when you have lost sense of the world around you. Is that a simple change of heart? Whatever the weather you'll be there, truer than ever. I can hear your constant strumming and as I close my eyes it soothes me in a way that I've not felt for a while. I can hear some laughter already, it looks to be a great time. Clattering of wooden chairs and the soft thud of cushions and floor rugs. There's a consistency in the blending of these sounds that is so marvellous it cannot be truly put into words, though any reader will know immediately what the writer is trying (badly but without a care!) to get at.

Now! Let us transform the weather. Whilst mystery can be exciting and snow can be fabulous and rain can fall fantastic (only to rehash one of my favourite lines). There is something about a warm, glowing hidden sunshine that is of a comfort so tender to our bodies and minds. It is too early to light the candles, but we will, we will get to that later I promise! I'm noticing all of you arriving, we're in our everyday lives and this is our time.

There's a lot of swirling around and a floppy hat obscuring vision as it swerves in time with the motion. A flash of red florals here and there. Flashes of golden enigma. Maybe a small caught corner smile. Catch her and kiss her, feel the softness of her lips and the taste of love that fills you up and sets you ready to go back on the road again. You don't have to go anywhere, but with her holding your hand you are unstoppable and more ready than before. This is no lust or greed, this is a breath of fresh air. Drink in deep and close your eyes as a clarity descends you that you didn't know you needed. Open up and the first thing that greets you, a smile. A good way to start the day.

I know I'm not supposed to indulge these maladaptions, but sometimes there is a beauty that is better than the present reality of life's is. "It's going to be just fine." I don't know how many hundreds of times I have said that to myself in the past few weeks. I think there's a power in the words not growing threadbare and loosing their potency. I want to go out and lie down, watching the stars with you. Just like you asked so very long ago, you said that's the best way to see them. Will you wake up to the sound of a beating heart? There's a closed book and an endless fountain of questioning cases, though let's keep the interrogation out of it. No 3rd degree required. We're not talking as much but I can still hear you. One of a few lights in the darkness of this lonely journey. Finding myself a little more, who am I.    

I've spent a lot of time considering how painful I find the many outlooks on love that are laid out in front of me. I let them wash over me, because I could not ever disagree so fervently about anything. There is a lot about being and a lot about seeing, even a lot about the self. My tales of daring and danger, they are not as dangerous as some of the hardship these other loves seems to bring. Perhaps it has a lot to do with contentment, not settling but just flowing like a breeze lifting the flowers heads in a gentle summertime transition. There is a real ethereal nature to my love, that is also so tangible and rock solid. Transcend this realm, taking my hand we will leave this place a little long while and be kept carefully in an expanse of inclined enchantment. Yes, it really is that easy. The threads of you are so beautiful. We are our own pattern. Interwoven and connected.   

Because love like this lasts more than forever. In knowing that I am home, still. 

1 comment:

  1. One of my mates did Pre-Tolkenian Fantasy Fiction (Heavy on the Lovecraft) for his PhD.

    Fuckinghell, ALL THOSE ADJECTIVE. NOPE. DO NOT WANT!

    Love you Mhairi <3

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your words.