A Promise Made

If I distance myself from my emotions, living as the observer, only knowing, and never fully feeling…

If I am unable and unwilling to immerse myself in the velvet weight of joy, granting sorrow and anger the meager touch of a skillful glance and a mindful nod…

Then I shall never live.

Sometimes life is weighty and sometimes light: one can not be without the other.  A variation of tastes and contrasts gives life spectrum, tint, and texture.  To find harmony in this variegated landscape, one must feel the discordant notes that give want of harmony.

Of this I grant: the wholeness of life shall elude me if I do not give myself to life wholly.

I want to know you, dear lover that is my life, my soul, and my spirit.  I want to observe your every detail so that I may understand you in all of your intricate, beautiful ways, both terrible and wonderful… but observing can sometimes assume the taint of sterile emptiness… and so, there has to be more.

I wish to know you in ways that do not divide and isolate.

And knowing is more than a resigned sigh while reviewing detailed notes taken from a distant vantage point.  One can not truly love while staring down upon the object of one’s affections from a cliff side, safe from the complications and inconvenience of relationship.  And so, I vow to walk hand and hand with you, and I will know you fully, my life, my love, my passion, though terrible and wonderful you may be.

This, I promise, o dearest one.

To give you less, would desecrate your beauty.

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~ by timberwraith on March 16, 2010.

 
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