Writer, Church leader, Eccentric Nut, Marketer

I'm Church Leader, Writer, Speaker, Marketer, Kindness Project Founder, Broadcaster and Superhero. But most important I'm a Husband, Father and a worshiper of Jesus.

8 April 2010

Moondance


Nightfall comes quick and lasts long.
It doesn't really, but it feels that way as my worn body returns home... hauling my spirit with it.

Another day of defeat,
success,
and indifferent to's and fro's.
A satisfying if not entirely victorious conclusion to the story of the day.

The smells and sounds in the black black room are numbingly familiar on the outside, but a considering spirit feels the depth. The hum of the fan that was once a nuisance has become a necessity... like the morning coffee and the "I Love you Daddy" from the blond princess across the hall.
It's brisk on my biscuits. Colder than I wish it was... but anything less would draw my ire.

The bed is made. REALLY made.
I question the logic of this.
She knows it.
I think it makes her laugh.
The corners are tucked in.
Shoot. My feet have to breathe.

My skin exhales like child who's been holding his breath for sport as the shadow stirs to life beside me.
She'll never remember this.
I can do anything I want to do, except want I really want to do.

I want run my hand down the side of her old familiar high school tee shirt.
I see that shirt night in an night out.
I know it's smell... because I know her smell.
I've seen her cry in that shirt.
I've made her cry in that shirt.
I've seen her child-laden belly peeking out from under that shirt.
I've been stirred by her curves teasing me through that shirt.

We are no longer in uncharted waters; but each time we set sail, the natural gives the supernatural a sloppy wet kiss.
But this is not the appointed time.

I stop and look at her in the faint light of the streetlight.
A marvelous creation.
I see in her my Ebeneezer Stone that allows me to sleep nights.
She's not the provider of peace;
but just by being there, points me there.

She know my repetitive ways.
Even in her low degree of consciousness she rolls away from me.
Not out of frustration... but graciousness.
She loves me.
I know it.

Destiny whispers into my ear, "hold her before this glimpse of the divine slips away onto the pile of missed moments"
The electricity of touch engages and diffuses at once.
Some nights are fiery samba, but this moon dance is more lullaby than flame.

I've been here before... and I will be again.
The grainy films of our history soothes my soul as we doze towards the inevitable dawn.
The morning curtain goes up before it's welcome.
Flights of fancy fade.
Tales of Dora and Boots come quick.

So Vamonos...

My lips approach her ear and whisper the lovers oath.
It was my vow
It is my motivation
It will be my future

She receives the word into her spirit.
I can feel it warmly pour through her body.
She shrinks tighter into me.
She speaks words that I don't understand... but I know what she means.

There is no more me.

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