On the edge...

As I listen to your words trembling forth from the recesses of your heart, I cannot help but grow somber with my new found impotence in this moment. Culpable, yet well intended I sit here in the darkness pondering the reality of your steps...the angst and frustration of your path....the weight of each breath.
Frustrated with the mundane and unable to focus, I close my eyes and reach for my only bonding solace, the essence of my walk, my heart. I cling sheepishly to what I recall has allowed me to carry onward through this life.....my essential belief in love itself. I walk forward heading towards the edge of the path that lays out before me....shadowing itself with the remaining light left on this cold dusk evening.

I feel your plight through your words that captivate and polish grandeur onto a plate that perhaps was never meant to shine so brightly. For I am not a precious metal, I just an average person with an aged soul. I stand here on the edge of these moments trying so desperately to both remain steadfast and also cloak my walk in silence to overcome the grief and guilt of my steps. Love should never been disguised nor isolated within one's mind, but alas, I cannot fully express my feelings at this juncture for fear of the consequential edge for which I walk upon.

I steady my feet and continue forth even as I dare not look back nor down as I near the proverbial edge of reason. I choose to walk here and not upon the sanctity and security of the worn path, perhaps because it is my destiny to either realize this occurrence completely or face my own tragic demise without fear nor regret. Far too often, I have been content with abdicating my dreams in exchange for the community of the masses, the tranquility of the herd, the reassurances of those also too afraid to ever truly live....ever truly love.....ever truly existing in this life.

I know what I am placing at risk here. It is nothing short of my whole essence... my life and my heart.
Rather to perish with a song of faith & love upon my lips, than bask in the colorless sunlight for decades, I surmise to myself with a new found lucidity.

I step forth.
Confident that the outcome, in either form, is a better place.....

Perfect timing.

The harmonic clicks emanating from the antique pocket watch movement placed precariously on the edge of the dark, rustic farm table nearby, distract me, albeit temporarily from the weight of these recent moments. As the metallic symphony of the watch continues in the background, my mind wanders back to better days in this... smiles, laughter, even tears were altruistic reminders of the reality of this walk, the emotions that encapsulated each step, each word was echoed with meaning, with unselfish purpose.

Struggling with the burdens of emotions so deep that I cannot bear to contemplate their net quantification, nor the steps required to ease their transport, I am saddened. Looking down, I cannot help but to envision a pile of dock lines before me, each one saturated in their own layer of guilt, sadness and grief....twisted and tangled so tightly, that hopefulness for their rectification is all but lost...

I was never good with balancing my private world with the reality of domestic affairs. Once the rigors of normalcy settles in, I fear the ambivalence that is certainly forthcoming from the decisions yet to define my next steps herein. I want so much to believe in the magic of these moments, for the faith yet to be fulfilled, the promise that for once, I will be loved by a hand that touches me.

The drama of each passing day unfolds almost with divine consistency. Perhaps when you are in the storm, you don't realize that while each day may be cloudy, lamenting over the presence of those moments is a bit repetitive unless you change your course and plot out a new destination. I choose to be here in the storm with you, holding your hand. Knowing that even without assurances and within the confines of its recklessness and angst, I am steadfast in my love for you.

For now, I am hoping this will be enough. Enough to guide you through the darkness. Enough to strengthen my resolve to remain here regardless of the duration...Enough to complete this journey and find some sentiments of serenity in this life.

I peer back once again to the silver-cased watch lying before me....as I reach for it, I notice it is still ticking strongly.....and keeping perfect time....

For now...

Reflections...

Awakened to the clamoring of my heart, I slowly shake the silence from the corners of this solemn, darkened bedroom. Restlessness now equalized between both my soul and the surrounding stifling air, I feel compelled to seek out redemptive understanding...a way for my heart to breathe. As I depart on my lonely midnight walk into the streets of the humid Mississippi summer, the ever present winds and waves echo nearby as gentle but permanent reminders of the inherent volatility of even the most simplistic moments here in this place...

Something has changed. Her words no longer authored with the same depth, nor fervor. The last messages I received, merely shallow dialogue in what was the most compelling, heart wrenching and significant conversation I had ever experienced. If she was now content to let this go...to reconcile her current life, alter her intentions here while abdicating this love, surely she would grant me that privilege, that essential gift. Alas, my heart aches.

Saddened. For the first time in this, I feel utterly mortal. My cape now tattered, my bleeding heart readily exposed to the callous and ungrateful night lying here before me. I reflect on this conversation to determine the source of its unplanned demise. I can only deduce that perhaps my reflection was to blame...

Reflections are intriguingly insightful reminders of where you stand even when your conceptions of reality are both lofty and idealistic. Love makes you believe that emotions transcend reality, that its essential presence washes away all detractors, all imperfections with an uncommon ease. Perhaps, I am a little too unattractive now in my current state of physical maturation. Twenty years can do that to a previously strapping young athlete now nearly four decades in age. I can only surmise with obvious pain that was one of the recent pivot points which has carved out the path of dissolution here.

Ironically enough, my barren feet stand in rigid silence upon the beach that only seven years to the day, Hurricane Katrina battered with 30 foot waves. I feel marginalized and reminded that what is now remains at peace is only a brief respite from what ruins may become....the same water that nourishes us is the very same that destroys us. Love is my nourishment..... Perhaps it was my heart and not my heel that was left untempered and unprotected at the River Stix. For now, I stand vulnerable and alone, just as the homes did proudly during the intense storms, but without the warning allotted to their structures and certainly without the hopes for a promising return to glory after their subsidence.

As I gaze out upon the moonlit water, I feel comforted by an unnaturally warm embrace.
Perhaps this is not about me at all, but just the course of love itself. Perhaps I am just too hard on myself....perhaps in fact, the reflections are just nature carving out its own controlled burn upon my soul....to purify my life, to wash away the essence of my own foundation in order to rebuild and reclassify my petty existence. It would be cruel to believe that all of this conversation was simply a bold wakeup call, but I know better than to question fate and its intentions.....certainly not while standing literally on the shores of the Gulf Coast. The new epicenter of this storm is within my soul. How will I prepare for its arrival? What lessons remain to be taught here?

Who will believe in this long enough to remain standing after the wrath of its pruning has been completed? I turn to leave and notice the sand is blackened without the sun, everything is dark without reflections of light.....ergo, I need to find my own source of light......to ever have a chance of restoring my reflections.......restoring my life.

At the gate....

I stand motionless...trapped in time between where I am, and where I want to be. As my tired hands clench the black iron spindles of the gate before me, the cold hollow bars mirror the restless and deceptively barren nature of my heart. Compelled without consideration for the immediate consequences of being here, my heart remains strong but unbalanced in its quest for fulfillment. Peering past the gate, scenes of dismay, sadness, and frustration crowd the stage and leave me questioning the essential rationale for my own arrival at this place. I remain. I recount the short lived joys just days before of seeing her stand before me, smiling and believing completely in this, in love itself, sanctioned or not by others who would certainly dismiss these emotions as folly and trivial reprieves from the reality of our present walk. As the dark clouds pass ominously overhead, they echo the ever changing present emotions of my soul...The stability of this moment continues to unnervingly vacillate between contentment, even joy, and then equally sorrow and regret.

As she emerges from the darkness and approaches the gate, my heart races with the immediacy of her presence, but protective of her intentions and the strings to my soul that lie exposed on the ground before us both. I am completely cognizant that she can see my vulnerability, but I continue to stand firm and confident in my stance, unwavering.....rooted deeply in my conviction, my essence and faith in this love. She mutters a few words about her day, and I can tell this journey has already sapped more out of her walk than expected. She turns to me with apparent sadness and simply says, "I am unsettled.....majorly unsettled......" My mind races to recount every recent statement, sentiment, even unstated thought that has flowed between our collective souls, and like a super computer scanning every available global database at its disposal, I return with no records, no files, no memories to justify nor validate her commentary.

Chalking it up to innocent but overwhelming stress of her path, I don't allow my mind to accept culpability for its presence, but secretly I wonder if perhaps the reality of her expectations in who I am now standing before her, have begun to alter her desire to be completely present. Perhaps, I am not worthy of her, of this, perhaps I was truly better off as a memory. It pains every last rivet of my mortal shell, but I knew the potential in what showing up here could produce long before I arrived. I turn my head briefly to avoid her viewing my fragility and as the tears cascade down my face, I know my attempts to hide the essential gravity of the moment are completely unavailing.

Knowing our own collective sensitivity and depth of exposure in this, she cannot help but start to cry outwardly, mimicking in unison, the feelings of true love gone lost for so long. I know inwardly it is easier to discount love and its promises, than stand boldly as it attempts to unravel, uproot and remold every last corner of your life for its own altruistic purpose. I touch her hand now balancing her weakened frame against the iron gate carved out between us. "Go, enjoy your evening. Get some rest, try to relax....." , I proclaim quite unemotionally. Selfishly...I want her to stay, knowing I would
stand here at her side forever, but also painfully aware this sanctity is fleeting and her journey is indeed overwhelming. As my fingers lift from their embrace of her delicately warm hands, I know that being here is the ultimate sacrifice.....the ultimate display of faith for us both. For we both are supremely certain it would easier to turn away from this, than ever having the perserverance of seeing it through. Uncertain of the future, I start wondering, pondering in silence what my purpose here truly is. As she turns away from then gate, I record every second of her departure as the waves of my soul churn....wanting so much for her to stay here with me every moment and everyday......but knowing that is not the reality of this conversation, at least today.

I promise to keep returning here...to this gate. For to feel her, even in these minute moments of fleeting joy, surpasses all alternatives. She is worth all of my sacrifice, as she is and has always been my
everything. There is actually no sacrifice in true love, only the innate, unselfish desire to be complete in this painful, burdening and relentless life....

"You will not be unsettled forever......I love you...." , I whisper to the wind before departing...

Garden of Hope.

Scanning the dew-covered grass laid out like carpet before me, I ponder what mysteries this day will uncover. I can no longer bear to live without hearing her voice, her words or feeling her soul move mine in some type of symbiotic Gregorian accord. Dismissed as chance or folly by some I am certain, my fervor in this doesn't disappoint, but rather enhances my existence...renewing my soul.

Walking along the water's edge of the placid pond just overstepping the reach of the sod, I try to imagine myself holding her hand and feeling her heart, albeit more tangibly than just words this time, but I know for now, this is but a desire. Shunning reality again out of sight like an unwelcome guest to this glorious celebration, I choose to allow my mind to relapse to more meaningful memories. After all, it is all I have left in this at this juncture. Memories, sacred memories that are as lucid today as when they were imprinted nineteen years ago... Just like my love for this moment, they have proudly withstood the abuse of time with an uncommon ease.

How did I stand to go for nearly two decades without a muttering, a sign nor a single word of this perpetration on my soul, but now, I long each day for one of those simple gifts. As routine as looking for the sun at dawn, I seek out her soul. Like a hummingbird who has finally discovered a colorful new patch of Verbena hidden in the desolate landscape, I return each day for my renewal and my spiritual feeding. I also long to continue planting the flowers as much as I enjoy taking from their harvest. For it is when we give, we are so truly blessed in our offerings.

For now, I will continue to believe in the sanctity of this moment, this adventure that validates the very sinew of my soul. The essence of love itself and its eternal opportunistic gift. I know not what tomorrow holds, nor if these flowers will ever cease their consistent bloom, but I know I will keep returning....longing for their embrace, their nourishment, their presence in my life. Likewise, I will keep planting, keep believing that this garden of unconditional love, support and solace will lead to a future rich in promises for what lies ahead.....

As I turn away, I pause to allow the sharp wind to glide across my face...I never want to leave, however I am not certain of my place. Looking down and across the fields extending from this garden, I see heavily worn trails and various footprints... I now realize that neither one of us ever truly left this place....we only arrived at different times without speaking.

I smiled...
Until we meet again, I will continue to carry your smile on my soul.
Faith and Smiles always.

Selfishly Unsettled...

Her words rang through my mind like a morning alarm clock without the luxury of a snooze button anywhere in sight.

"I am selfish for wanting this... for stepping out of bounds, for creating turmoil in your life....", she proclaimed boldly with obvious regret and discouragement in her voice. The position I was now placed in emotionally was neither envious nor redeemable to even the slightest degree. How could I quantify her remarks into something that would even begin to rationalize my feelings? My soul dropped with her pleadings of sacrifice and dismay like a child being admonished for lying about their favorite flavor of ice cream. It wasn't fair. Not here and not now are you going to interject reason into this love story. My heart raced and without careful pretense I responded, "Selfish? Are you selfish for wanting to be happy... to be loved by someone who has always cherished you? To have meaningful conversation in your life?.."

Pausing sharply, I knew I had probably said too much. Her reaction to my words was immediate and unrehearsed. I had overloaded the circuits of disciplined routine and crossed the proverbial line of emotional stability. As she walked away in obvious grief, I could hear her quietly sobbing to herself, "I am so confused......Why does something so right have to happen now?" I knew aligning her true feelings with the reality of what was present was a risky juxtaposition, that I didn't foresee. Before my words were released to the air shared between our souls, it was over. Apologies for what had transpired between us were the only remaining participants left to play out the performances on this tired stage.

As the mortar of my essence began to crumble, I held onto the promise of what this truly had become. This was more than just romantizing about the past, more than reliving something good in midst of the routine of marriage. This was truly that elusive second chance in life...to reconnect, rediscover and reinvent your life with your one true love. One last opportunity to play out that hand that was stripped away so unmercifully two decades prior, so unjustly. We both knew that this moment wouldn't be without tremendous cost. The obvious challenge remained. Who would be willing and able to burden the expense to reap the reward of its harvest.

Did either of us trust in the power of love to that extent any longer? Did we truly believe in this?

I knew the return of her presence in my life would be as much about my own pruning as it would ever be about my prosperity. I tried to look away, partly to hide my own tears. I knew that this was all too much to shoulder and perhaps losing her a second time would indeed become the darkest finality of sorrow in this lifetime. I pleaded outwardly, "Don't walk. Don't rationalize this away...." ---- I had just exposed my own desperation. I was naked, alone & vulnerable. However, I was at peace with this moment of humility with her, as she had already seen my truest self and loved me anyhow.

I was torn. As much as love prepares you for its bounties of richness and beauty, it also requires nothing less than every bit of nerve, sinew and sacrifice that is contained within your soul....I knew this, but I was still not prepared for the moment playing out before me. Gazing over to my love now sitting on the grass in a solemn but gentle peace, I wondered what she was thinking. I gazed inwardly at my own soul and pondered, "Was I ever worth any of this to anyone? How could I be worth so much to her now?"... These discounted thoughts of self-value entered my mind, as tears carved out transparent rivers of sadness onto the ground below me.

Without warning, she lifted her head and gazed at me. Piercing my soul, I felt her eyes telling me she was still here.

She was still in this with me now, ready to believe in this dream --- as least as far as it would ever take us both. Bracing the forces of fear, resentment and rejection, I walked to her. I took her hand and we both smiled.

We had passed the first test of true love returning...

How we would fair in the next arena of battle was yet unknown...

Rain in the well.

This well has been dry for quite some time. As I gazed inwardly I felt my heart move slightly with the notion that my barren soil, just received a drop of rain. This cannot be happening... This land was forsaken, sold to bidders who didn't cherish its existence, its heartbeat long since departed from its tired, arid veins. I cannot shake the moments that have brought me back full circle to the technicolor reality of the past. The most meaningful and moving corners of my entire life archive were now being summoned to the present. Within the walls of its deceit, I felt displaced in time to a place where my life's course changed so drastically...so abruptly, so unwillingly, so permanently? Rekindling these memories, I feel as if an old 8mm reel camera springs to life... its wheels still vibrant and obedient, but what scenes will be left on the tape to play and who will be watching this performance? More importantly, how will it end? Can I handle another failed repeat performance of this act that just kept spinning without end in my soul for the last 20 years?


Living torn, knowing that I cannot change the past, I sit contemplatively trying to understand the moments that define my recent days... If I stay here at this well, will the rains continue or is this just a sick, hallowed oasis in my own mind trying to deceive my last bit of sanity? Hold the tape. Not this memory, not the most cherished set of recollections I have ever known...I know the risk in placing these reels on the projector of my life, but like the proverbial moth, I cannot ignore this flame either. I just cannot look away. Perhaps, I secretly believe in the omnipotent power of love and the beauty & calmness that still resides in this place.


Perhaps, I am just mad...


Perhaps there is one more performance left...


Perhaps we better be careful. This slope is mighty slippery.


Give me your hand...


...................................................................................................................


It is just a walk, it is just me...