Mystic Writer

Peeking out to see if there is a real world out there...

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Gift of a moment

Starshine glints below and air rises up, swirling, enveloping me in the sense of her. Unbidden my hand pulls my cell phone from my pocket and I start to dial.

It has been a day of following impulse. I left work early and drove long following a need to hike the ravine. Bare branches sang in the breeze and I held every inspiration for a moment, then flung them on the winds to her. The path curled up and around, exploring sandstone hollows and outcrops and I followed it longer than I intended. When finally I sat in my car and mentally prepared to go home I found I wasn't ready and following a whim headed east to the Mississippi in darkening twilight.

Sixty miles on and feeling my way, a small road beckons and I turn to follow. At a dead end I get out, walk downhill, and realize I am far above the Mississippi. A fence bars my way and I follow it till I find a tree I can climb to cross over and drop on the other side. Not far ahead the world falls away and I approach cautiously. A shadow projects outward from the cliff and I move my head back and forth in the dark trying to get a sense of what I am seeing. I realize it is a finger of black rock, jutting out from the edge, only a couple of feet wide and maybe six feet long. I inch out and at the precipice slowly lower myself and start to notice where I am.

The sky is a vast bowl of black velvet, the frigid moonless night allowing the stars to shine out in diamond glory. The sky merges with the bluff on the far side of the river and small lights glisten, adding to the splendor. Below the water mirrors everything with perfect fidelity and I hang suspended, immersed in diamond and velvet.

The wind swirls up and I can feel her as I dial the last digit. Her voice mail answers "TB... TB..." the awe and wonder soften my voice and I trail off. I have no plan and the words tumble out. "The beauty here is incredible - stars below, stars above, river and sky. If you can connect with this, touch this beauty, if you can find a way, you really should - I know this moment... this gift of a moment, is for you too. You've been with me all day..." again I trail off, then hang up.

Without transition I drop into a deep state of simple awareness - no thought, only appreciation. Without remark the stars wheel in the sky and water.

A long, long while later I walk to my car and go home.

Saturday, November 05, 2005


The blanket is soft to the touch and has a warmth of it's own. The golden brown has depth and as we lie side by side, it feels as if the comfort of the blanket envelopes us, creates a space where there is only touch and breath.

A shift and kiss, light, tentative, and a fingertip slide and sigh. Gently her touch pulls me closer, closer, and my hands stroke and explore. The kisses lengthen, intensity rising. Gentle unfastenings, slow pull, touching more skin and more.

Fire rises, slowly at first, then more urgent. Rhythmic movements mold us closer and closer, and with a mutual gasp we strain together. Uneven breathing, laced with small noises and moans. Her hands run over me, exciting me. I move my hands, cupping, pulling, stroking and her body responds.

I wrap an arm around her waist, low, hold her and lift up on my toes and hand. I pull her tight and she wraps arms and legs as I roll us over. Her fingernails slide down my chest as she rises up and my whole body pulses as I look above me.

Our eyes meet and we smile, share a joyous laugh. She leans forward, kisses lightly and then arches back. I touch her and touch her, lifting off the blanket to louder and louder gasps, and suddenly she shudders and writhes and again leans to hold me close.

This time she rolls me over, and the motion starts something. I lose control, give my body and emotions sway and this time when she starts to shudder I join her.

We slowly relax, almost asleep, her sandwiched between me and the blanket, and after a long time I roll off, hands still entwined. Slowly we come alive, talk softly till laughter starts, then louder and suddenly her hands are touching and we are locked again. This time it is less intense but wonderfully satisfying, and somehow we peak together.

Early morning, the smell of her still in the treehouse, I watch the electric maple yellow outside my window slowly emerge from the night. I know this won't last and don't mind the thought. I roll over, bury my head in the pillow, let the shadow memories of last night play for a moment then let them go, and with a final fond thought, fall asleep.