I walked directly to the pool and sat quietly next him,
putting my feet in, not asking for his attention. I had moved more into my
divine feminine energy early in this process and as a result, I understood that he would let me know
when and if he was ready for me. He smiled at me from the side and told me I was beautiful.
He slipped into the water serpent-like, along the rocky side
of the pool and faced me. He extended his hand in invitation. I accepted. The
sheet I wore clung to my every curve now and I lay my head on his nearly hairless
chest for a while. After just a few minutes, I turned to face him. I touched his throat. His neck with my fingertips. It was strong and pure and muscular. His
right hand slipped under the sheet and gently massaged my back. I could feel
him, his every move, his warmth. He was more there, more physical, different from the non-physical yet palpable energy we had exchanged when he had held my hand in the library.
It
occurred to me that I would at some point want to know how he had managed to
manifest in such a fully physical way that day. On this day, he presented himself as he had been just
before he passed from the physical world. Mid to late 50’s. Hair trimmed short on the sides and back but long enough in front for wisps of hair to fall haphazardly forward. I reached up and brushed his hair up and away from his eyes. I started to wonder if he would always come to me this clearly from now on but ceased my random thoughts and brought myself
back to this exquisite moment with him, not wanting to miss feeling even one stroke of his
hand on my back.
I had only shared myself fully with 3 men in my life. Two
husbands and one beautiful love affair in between. I knew that a man needed to earn a woman as much as she needed him to earn
her.
But in that pool with Daniel, I knew that he had more than
earned me lifetime after lifetime. My body temptation was
to give him everything I had right there—right then. My soul knew it was too soon.
He came closer and I fell into those eyes. I know that is a
trite way to describe the sensation but right now I can think of no other way.
His eyes had depth, sometimes green, sometimes hazel. On occasion, light brown.
The color of his eyes seem to reflect the mood of his soul. The movement of his
hand on my back slowed. Then, he asked me if he could now remind me of what we had together so long ago. His lips were close to mine now so I knew what he meant. For some
reason I didn’t say yes. I said please…
His lips were full and soft and teasing. Just barely touching
mine, tickling the surface and making me hungry for more. And he did give me
more, but just a little and I resisted the temptation to take more of what I
wanted, knowing he would give it, but knowing too, that it would be too much
too soon. It was like bathing in a new kind of light. I got a glimpse of a past mistake with him, neither one of us finding the
wisdom to look away from the intensity of that light, and so we burned. That memory told me that
if I accepted too much too soon, he was likely to disappear. Like a gentle bird
that flies ever so close and happily takes tiny bits of bread, and comes back
for more and more and more. But then you get too anxious and get too close
because enough is never enough—the bird flies away and you recognize your
mistake all too late.
Even as I held myself in check, I could see what I was
learning. His very presence ignited an act of patience in me—of restricting my desire to
have everything I wanted all at once.
I had been stroking his throat the entire time. As his lips played with
mine, I received and reciprocated, finding his rhythm and accepting it as my
own. Then, a complete surprise. A surge of lavender colored sparkling light passed
through our throats, back and forth. At that moment, I felt I may never utter another word. There may be no need. The sweet colored energy surged
though by body downward, lingering at the heart, warm and clean, brief but
powerful. He gently moved away, before it became too much.
As my body settled, I found us forehead to forehead, too close
to perceive where I ended and he began.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered. I remembered him.
“I’ve missed you, too.”
But it was like his words fell backwards along with him, into
a tunnel.
I woke in my bed, one
tear running down my right cheek. I wiped the tear away. and said,
“Thank you.” Perhaps too late for him to hear.
I found sleep.
The next morning, I awoke feeling warm but afraid. I have learned not to dissect my feelings and to allow emotions to guide but not consume me. As a woman, I allow myself
the fleeting feelings that come with all the colors of being a woman.
I took out my pencil, and my no frills yellow legal pad. I saw
that the pencil was in serious need of sharpening. (Why do I not just get down to
the business of sharpening, and spare myself the inconvenience of
dwindling lead? Perhaps I'll look at the meaning behind that someday. Not today.)
As I put dull pencil to paper, scribing his latest message, my soul calmed,
knowing he had not gone for good.
Teacher
She never says no, yet she takes her own time.
Her bridle of strength she wears proud.
Her gait speaks of fineness and virtue.
Her wisdom she dons like a shroud.
Each morning I rise; her love beckons.
She knows how to gambol and feel.
She’s mastered her mission. She’s wiser than me.
Her softness can show me what’s real.
Then we go riding, the world takes its leave.
Just her mane and my hair sail the wind.
Her body each moment reflects back my truth.
My guru, my master, my friend.
Daniel (2010)
Two days in the mountain the air. The baby bear. The deer
in the crosswalks. The soundless, moonless nights. It was worth waking at 2 am
just to listen to the silence and commune with the missing moonlight. And I did
wake. And I didn’t travel. I hoped Daniel would understand. Each night as I
drifted only as far as my dreams, I whispered to him. I am with you. I will
come back to you. But I didn’t invite him to join me.
Some of us have spent years, not even knowing who we are anymore.,,chameleon like creatures, amazingly adept at changing our colors to match our surroundings instead of creating surroundings to match our soul's exquisite energy of love and truth.
Real
He slipped into the water serpent-like, along the rocky side
of the pool and faced me. He extended his hand in invitation. I accepted. The
sheet I wore clung to my every curve now and I lay my head on his nearly hairless
chest for a while. After just a few minutes, I turned to face him. I touched his throat. His neck with my fingertips. It was strong and pure and muscular. His
right hand slipped under the sheet and gently massaged my back. I could feel
him, his every move, his warmth. He was more there, more physical, different from the non-physical yet palpable energy we had exchanged when he had held my hand in the library. 
But
slowly, I would learn surrender. With each journey made between my earthly life
and the other side, I would let go just a bit more. I would come to trust that
I would end up right where I needed to be, either here or there.
