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Waiting For The Sun February 15, 2008

Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Love and Death.
Tags: , ,

He had promised to return, and She had believed him.

He always promised, and he always left, and she always let him. What else could she do? It was in his nature to slip silently away, gently, without malice or regret or a backward glance.

And he always returned, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but always.

Silently, expectantly, under a starry sky, under the weight of her icy cloak, she waited.

She woke to his touch, his smile shining down on her.


As the day blossomed, his radiant fingers slid across her face, caressed the elegant curves of her hills, played across the quivering grass of her lowlands, explored the wetness of her deepest secret folds. Slowly, gently, he peeled back the armor of her solitude, wrapping himself in her, penetrating her, infusing her with an undeniable light.


They melded, became one, defied the laws of physics, occupied the same space at the same time. They crossed a line, an invisible line, beyond which existence becomes Life, becomes Love, becomes a cup of hope, a slice of serenity, a Feast of possibilities. They exploded in Power and Glory, engulfing the universe, becoming again the singular mystery, the source, the chalice of all that exists.

Then he gathered himself, rose to the sky of his birth, and without malice, without regret, slipped once more over the horizon.


The fount of all love, the template of our existence, is the perfect symbiosis of sun and water, Earth and Sky, the universe within and the universe without.

Thank You, Mother Earth. Thank You, Father Sky.


1. sherry - February 15, 2008

oh, just terrific. just wonderful.

2. Paul (the Byziwhatsit) - February 15, 2008

Amen. Beautiful. Thank you, CR.

3. Suzi Riot - February 15, 2008

Beautiful words, beautiful images. Thank you for brightening my own dull winter day.

4. DCup - February 15, 2008

The power of the word, the beauty of the pictures.

Nicely done.

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