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Two Afternoon Walks, Four Images Each
September 29, 2016
This past divided week wasn’t. It was out of time, separate, a piece of indulgence, like a cherry pie with vanilla ice cream, warmed in a micro-wave oven. Just roll with it as you read. There is a need for more of this particular piece of time.
It was a rest. It was a relaxed moment, perforated with a woman known to none but this writer. It was a pause button on a digital pendulum swinging its never ending swish from here to there and back again.
It was a heart beat break, between the lub and the dub, that then continued. It was a speck of sand in the universe held static for one brief eternal remembrance. It was a space between atoms, electric in its positive charge, and now we are back in our times moving at a regular pace in everyday lives. May it occur again, and soon.
There is nothing as warm and loving as being in the arms of a lover and falling asleep in the peaceful privacy of togetherness. Listening to the breath of the others’ sighing breaths, measured, rhythmic, changing with sleeping thoughts. Short quick breaths relax into deep, strong, slow air coming in and going out. Deep sleep.
Now, when the other has descended into this mode, these eyes close, reach into the darkness grasping rest, peacefully guaranteed. There is no ease as blissful as this. A good night.
No Morning Walk nor Afternoon Walk can compare to this time wrapped in the arms of love. It is a kind of magic. Events of the day melt away and are nothing.
Across the meadow at Big Springs an examination of images yields little of satisfying value. Mundane, dull, ordinary, the worst description one can attribute. Ordinary. Enough to shout foul language in frustration.
Where goes the mind? The sight of creative force, blind and pointless reflects back from the pond into this mind. It is time for a change, a shock to the system, a different horizon.
I am grateful for your visit. Thank you.