love song

i sit with my eyes closed in the middle of a silent room and let the currents move about me, slow like ballet under the waves of the sea.  quick too like tinkerbell, and smiling with the wicked tease of fairies.  of thee i sing:

i will be gone, i will be gone, i will be gone.  thy will be done.  

soon?  not soon?  i will be gone and what might it be like to be free of the shackles of time.  time itself, not a little of it or a lot, but the fact of it.  somewhere, someday, someone will reach up into the milky way and swim unfettered there by the dreary bonds of the finite.  i know it and i love that person, i send him or her my love, now here, and then there, both, neither, i send my love and my sorrow at not being able to join in that merry dance.

My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Mocharabuiee.

i sit in the room cross-legged, my eyelids lowered, and see that if i were clear enough and fearless, silence would be the loveliest music of all.  nothing interior, but all around me silence, around all of us dispersing like a drop of ink in the water glass, but our reach is too short, the reach of what we can imagine and feel.

i am that mammal a single heartbeat short of mutation, sinking a feather shy of evolving, sinking into the dark eternal as it gathers in one final confusing glimpse of the creature that transformed, crouched on the bank of a river looking back.

but with all the fallings short, i want to spend these moments with you, my love, wrestling against the bit, guided by saint jude, shaman of hopeless causes.  because i love you, whatever it is i don't care, and i clamber hopeless onto the timbers of your sweet frail soul, as i would any boatman to take me home, home to the shore, the other shore, be there with me as long as you can, and i will be with you.