Life Happens…

For me, love means life and wholeness in a sought-to-be-found priceless treasure of cherishing companionship. Finite, by mortality’s limited vision and scope, yet securely fashioned in eternal realms, love knows no boundaries or end. The greatest gift, wrapped in simple, heartfelt, plain and humble expressions of rewarding, selfless, unfathomable, sometimes unexpected and curious, displays of rainbow-coloured experiences is love: the purpose of life.

My life exists through breaths, my breath of life: LOVE; my reason for being.

Sound asleep, fast under the sandman’s spell, happily subject to his whims of fancy, I rest. Suddenly jolted with alertness, severing realism with reality, I wake to darkness, filled with the urge to resume the wonder I crave. Tossing and turning, I pull my bed coverings up and over my head momentarily, attempting to block the brightness of thoughts before re-adjusting them and myself. Perhaps that midnight dream was ignited by a foolish woman living through shadows of time, words spoken, and experiences shared? Foolish? No! A woman living in and sharing her heart? Emphatically, yes.

Tucking my covers behind my back (bounded by a pillow) and under my neck, burrowing my hands inside the warmth, I hold them firmly in place along my cheek and shoulder, arms crossed over my chest in hugging formation. Comfortably curled into a tight ball and snuggly wrapped in cocoon-like layers of cotton and fleece, no sooner do my eyes close than he appears. I see and hear him. His rolling ‘r’ playfully strikes a chord echoing in my ear, and his smile gently caresses my heartstrings in the middle of the night. Like serenading music from a distant land, I listen to his voice before Rod Stewart harmonizes, transforming my room with an ambience of intimacy, as if a gentle breeze whispering through soft candlelight flames flickers in my soul, taking me on a voyage. I feel my smile spread, creasing lines at the corners of my eyes. I am sailing within the billowing winds of thoughts. Willing myself to re-enter the fading realm proves unsuccessful as my eyes and mind refuse to still themselves. I am awake (for how long I know not), thinking and wondering about my feelings, our friendship and love.

Eventually, sleep will return me to dreaming. Uncurling and rolling to lie on my back, I reach behind my head to feel for my phone. Checking the time, calculating, debating, blinking against the lighted screen, I send a quick message. Opening WordPress and choosing a new draft, I commence recording my feelings and smile at the picture reeling in my mind. My eyes perform the curtain dance between phrases, open and close. A yawn escapes. I stretch, flex, contract and release every muscle. My feet take turns playing with my microfleece-covered legs, feeling the softness. From toes to knees, one leg then the other, soft and smooth. Soft, a word floating into my mind refreshes a memory causing me to reflect, returning me to the quiet of my presence. I close my eyes, deeply inhale, and fill my lungs. Feeling my chest expand and my abdomen pressing into the mattress as the tightening muscles between hip bones, ribs and back cause me to pause before slowly exhaling, relaxing my body, I become acutely aware of myself from the inside out. Repeat, write, return, stop.

My fingers try to catch the cadence of words pumping out a cardiac rhythm
like pressurized blood pulsing with oxygen.

You are my heart,
my tears rain truth
flowing like a waterfall.
Over the crest, ribbon-like
cascades; beauty dives headlong,
splashing foam with giggling glee,
sweetwater drops,
my heart, you are.  

I am my heart,
the soul I know,
I feel each breath, being one,
a pure cascading rhythm.
Happily burbling, flowing
steadily. Love's reservoir,
sweetwater drops,
my heart, I am.

When your heart hugs another’s, dancing in tune with his, the stars wink the rhythmic beats, a harmony of souls when two become one, magical, symphonic moments wherein time stills the tick-tock. These moments live, always and forever, life-sustaining breath, everlasting memories cherished within the intangible touch, an intimate trust.

Love means being vulnerable, sometimes understanding little, comprehending less, yet feeling happily content and at peace in another. A couple of times, when experiencing painful, splintering feelings in my chest as confusion threatens dreams with doubt-shattering power, I catch my breath, then exhale into the rich depth of enduring friendship. Predominately, however, my heart recognizes truth, glowing from within, evidenced in my smile. Occasionally, overwhelming me, the emotionally charged waterfalls cascade.

Vulnerable, like a river, from its source steadily moving in its course, willingly subjected to direction, speed, and volume by currents, obstacles and weathering conditions. Broadening its scope, squeezing or trickling through narrow passageways, meandering in new territory, feeling its way along riverbanks, around and through crevices, laughingly washing over or dripping tears on rocky barriers, crawling to seep into soft, receiving ground, tickling sandy bottoms, and providing a living habitat creates incredible, awe-encountering vistas in the journey of becoming one within its environment. A legacy, the heritage of love? YES!

Metaphors and symbolism. 
I see, feel, touch, and sigh with purposeful breath.

My life, wholeness in a sought-to-be-found priceless treasure of cherishing companionship, wrapped in genuinely simple, heartfelt, plain and humble expressions, a vision for me awake, not the fading dream of the sleepy. My breath. 

I am near, there, and where you are
a journey across sea and space
in my night dreams, 
I see your face,
a dimpled furrow in your cheek. 
The bridge to here, 
your hand in mine
a touch sublime, 
my heart, no fear.
Inhaling, 
I feel the swelling 
as my chest expands.
I want to hold it at its peak,
immersed 
in the swaying rhythm 
of loving.

Love leads, flowing with the rhythm of my heart, the essence (source) of who I am, following where he goes and walking by his side, like intertwining threads in an intricately woven tapestry of lives, granted breath. Blending colourful strands, opportunistically and purposefully chosen, creates a masterpiece designed with the capacity to withstand the elements of time. When he smiles, I melt into his dimple, like melting snow replenishing rivers of my life, wherein voyages are peacefully serene. Those sparkling brown eyes, like stars, brighten, inspire and guide me to gaze into new and rich depths of feelings. Loving means trusting my heart as it symbolically searches the stars, flows into rivers and wherever I follow its lead, faithfully and wholly, weaving an enduring story fit for the ages, bound by loyalty, romance, and truth of genuine love.

Truthfully, life happens, no coincidences but opportunities in choice. Time is not in my hands, however lessons aplenty in waiting, watching, stilling my heart, listening and walking into an unfamiliar but welcome place cause uncertainty, where no hiding from the one truth known exists.

I know the truth,
illuminated like a rainbow
reflecting colours of my life
by
that treasured breath: love
flowing from my heart,
cascading like a waterfall,
refreshingly beautiful in its purity.

I do not recall the passage of time from wakefulness to exhaustion’s retreat back to the world of dreams. Perhaps this is simply the imagination of my heart beating its way through light and shadow under the warming cover of star-fed illusion, tucked into bed?

Still, I know. You are my heart. I am my heart. I am whole.

My life exists through breaths, my breath of life: LOVE; my reason for being.

© Vicki Nicholls December 2021

Life happens . . . so does love.