Wednesday, June 24, 2015


They approach each other, bathed in still distant crescent moon light, beacons for the good red road. Neither light nor night have any pull of gravity aiding their attraction, their anticipation. They will loop like bows, away and towards each other, yet still, within my peripheral gaze, they are certainly aligned, brought to proximity by forces unfathomable. I know nothing of the forces drawing them together, yet I know of the forces drawing me to engage, for I, like them, am a creator. I cannot observe the path of a photon, or observe entanglement across light-years, yet my very engagement creates them. I cannot explain the magnetic, but I create it when I see and feel it. Still, all of that does not matter...I don't care...because it simply is...through me.

The green of her, though alien, provides the brightness of her reflection; a brilliance almost palpable through hazel eyes, and the red, swirling hurricane. Her boiling clouds, though foreign, offer the taste of powerful sweetness, the feel of wet warmth, and the tender brush of a droplet. He has been warned of toxic gasses and searing heat, but in this creation they are nourishing and welcome. Their paths are not fated, but destined to occur across the vast expanse. They own their power, and hence, do not alter their course.

He is the larger, though not greater. His draw is formidable, despite the lack of solidity.  I do not know if he is hot or cold, but I do know that his winds will strip a person bare to the bone. Still, he is a force with a colorful softness that is bound to enchant. Others may fear the weight of him, but that is senseless, for he ambles on his path toward her with his power starkly present, and his approach relentless. He is what he is, simply seeking to arrive.

Since you cannot square the circle, I assume you cannot circle the square. Still, she and I are simply two Ls, joined together at all the right angles. What is true for the celestials is also true for us. Our path is immutable. There is however, a vast difference. Venus and Jupiter will never touch, nor will ever connect. There are forces stronger than the laws in the ether; stronger because we create them. That is what makes them real. That is what makes everything real. She and I are constantly approaching, constantly connecting, constantly entangled. We are creating, and adventuring. This is the path that is. We are our greatest force. LY2

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Sun, rain, wind and clouds

She has rain in her, at least she did, but her forecast seems tenuous. It is impossible to discern her black from her blue, for they are both always present; fleeting and flickering too quickly in some moments. Yet, warm and bright blue are always possible, for long, extended periods, like hope without certainty. The weather of a woman should not be so unpredictable, yet I forecast her unfairly. Her sun smiles, with a hand taken, or a kiss given, or a shoulder offered. though it his her offerings that most accurately predict. Her fingers pulling at my beard, or her cheek rested at the back of my shoulder portend high pressure systems, blue skies, and soft, warm winds. I suppose it is synchronistic...entangled light with proximity, yet weakened with distance, like gravity. All is right together, yet low pressure looms with every drive away.

I suppose that I am a man who likes unpredictable, the grey that comes at the onset of curiosity. I like the uncertainty of the process; the path of drawing back the curtains of discovery; the intensity of revelation; the boundless surprise of loving what you find.

And that is what she offers me; that is what makes me happy. I believe that I offer the same things, although I am not unaware of my shortcomings. There is an ease in the love we share; comfort and contentment certainly, but it is more. Whether it's birds and dragons in the sand, or the hunt for the marbled murrelet, or the promise of other, infinite adventures, there is easy excitement in loving her, and yes, being loved by her. It is as easy and momentous as blinking, and it is adorned with intense and urgent desire. It is easy because it is simply there, magically created in the brush of an eyelash, or in every new greeting.

On the outside, I may not seem to offer a future, but I know...I just know...that we offer each other an endless string of moments filled with joyous revelation. It's not the hokey pokey, but it is what it's all about. That's what love is...that's what life is.