For This is Wisdom

For this is Wisdom; to love, to live,

To take what Fate, or the Gods, may give,

To ask no question, to make no prayer,

To kiss the lips and caress the hair,

Speed passion’s ebb as you greet its flow,

To have ... to hold ... and, in time, ... let go!

LAURENCE HOPE

aka: Adela Florence Cory Nicolson


09 April 1865 - 04 October 1904












IMAGES: SCENES through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com
LAURENCE HOPE Wikipedia

Morning Concert

I return to this tiny bit of reflection ... because I like the way that it makes me feel. Not a complicated formula for deciding ... and one that I smile at the consideration of. This post constitutes the 599th time that I have shared a posting with You, My ever-enduring Friend and Reader. (Next posting will be number 600 ... amazing!)

With the close of this day, I will be leaving the comforts of my Friends' lovely home, and returning to the far-less accommodating elements of my own dwelling place.

Many Folk take a holiday from their usual, and normal environment and go camping. I, in essence, camp all through the year. These past few days have constituted my holiday from the primitive style of my usual circumstances. I have luxuriated in hot running water ... a kitchen with full compliment of appliances for convenient cooking (AND a sink with running water ... RIGHT THERE! Cool!) I have enjoyed the accommodating convenience of a flushing toilet; windows with a wonderful view, in addition to the brilliance of sunlight; and NO traffic noise!! Wow! (My Place is situated on one of the busiest roadways in the county.) AND ... I have had the facility of a working computer. Hence, my communication with You, of late. And, as if all of that were not far more than enough ... my Darling Friends welcomed me to the use of their sweet little Honda Civic (and even left a gift card for gas!) [smile]

Yes indeed! This has been sweet!!

I do not know when I will be able to speak with You again. You can be sure that you will be actively occupying all of those wonderful places that are yours, in my Heart. When I can again access a computer, I will be back to you. Be certain of that! [loving smile]

All that said ... her is that little Bit that I spoke of earlier. I hope that it makes You, Dear One, feel good too.

I love You.

Morning Concert

The tacet eloquence of your eyes,

The gentle melody of your smile,

The tranquil harmonies of your spirit,

Orchestrate to greet me with …

A morning concert of ... YOU.

John-Michael

(29 October 04)

(revised 10 August 2009)

IMAGE: Through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

Love Storms

Love Storms

Seizing, testing, and tearing,
at the togetherness of his Heart's Vessel …
The sudden, unbidden storm of cyclonic passion,
unleashes its awesome powers.
While the wizened and weathered Sailor,
thrills at this new challenge.
His readiness and responses, to the furious encounter,
tell of Storms, well-known, before.

For him, ‘tis but an awakening,
of long-dormant Senses.
He thrills, in his celebration,
of this rush, of uncommon energies, and Might.
All made richer by his seasoned ability,
to understand; to accept; to welcome.
For he knows ‘tis nothing but a passing gale …
a magnificent gift of Nature.

Yet ... he relishes that wistful dream,
of distant trade-winds of constancy;
reliable breezes ... prevailing forces ...
that maintain a pleasant voyage.
Thus he sails on … enjoying the breath,
of Friendships that sustain;
The occasional gust, of Camaraderie …
a sweet puff, of Congeniality.

Keeping, all the while, his sailing skills sharpened …
his ship in readiness;
For that anticipated, unknown, yet expected,
eruption of Love’s powers.
And he smiles, the smile of One,
who never abandons his yearning …
To sail, into life’s sunset-painted horizon,
with sails billowing,
Filled to Desire's capacity ... swelled with satisfactions …
imparted by, the still unknown ... Her.



John-Michael
03 March 2008
Revised 25 May 2009

"When We Meet" (by request)

When We Meet

I’ll not meet you side the highway,
Nor in the halls of commerce,
Where serenity and quiet,
Have no home … nor can be found.

I’ll reserve for us a table,
With a window on the Bayside.
Softly draped, with cloth of linen,
Weaved by noble Peasant hand.

We will sup with wine by locals.
Label known not to the merchant.
We will dine on fare from labours,
Of attentive, gentle care.

We'll be slow about our speaking.
Of each other we are learning.
Of each other are becoming,
More as One ... no more, the Twain.

We are learning, and accepting,
All that is our inner Beings.
All within us … all that makes us …
All defining who we are.

Can we cling to, save, this moment?
Can we hold it to our bosom?
Will it nurture and uphold us?
When our outside worlds, we face?

‘Tis most certain that we cannot.
For life’s swirling all about us.
This, the fledgling bond between us …
Life would pull and tear apart.

So please meet me, ere you wander,
In your busy life and duty,
At our table … by that window.
Where our Union knits, once more.


John-Michael
25 February 2008
Revised & Retitled 3 May 2009

Envelop Me

I received a note from a very kind and caring Friend who knows my penchant for language. Hence, she is aware enough of my inclinations, to know that I would be quite distraught in discovering that I had published something with an incorrect form, of a word usage, as a part of a posted bit. So, I send my sincere "Thank you!" to that generous Friend who pointed out my usage of "Envelope" instead of the intended (and quite correct) "Envelop." And (after correcting the 04 April post), I offer this corrected piece.

Envelop Me

I listen, in silence, as your body entreats …
Every part of you speaks out … each whispers its request.
My face hears, through the sweet fragrance of your hair,
“This is where I must be … Envelop me.”

Nestled ‘gainst my chest, your shoulders make clear,
Your wish for a place of unassuming welcome … a refuge.
Your hands guide mine to cup you in insulating warmth.
As I hear “Within these arms I yearn to be … Envelop me.”

Racing through each day … from Requirement to Demand,
In these early dawning hours your legs seek retreat.
And summon mine to cocoon them in firm, gentle repose.
Your contented sigh confirming … “Envelop me.”

Independent and strong, you’re a Force through each day.
But in these still, silent moments I covet hearing you affirm …
“Here, together, secure happiness is mine.
Wrapped in your love, I wish most to be … Envelop me.”

As One we breathe … ensconced in serene harmony.
Unspoken, yet clearly understood, our bodies confide,
Messages and affirmations that will endure the madness of day.
I gladly embrace your gentle command, “For all eternity …
Envelop me.”


John-Michael
04 April 2008

Evolving Thoughts on Love & Adoration

Love: A feeling of strong personal attachment ...
induced by a sympathetic understanding or by ties of kinship

Adore: To feel or express reverent admiration for;
to regard with fervent devotion and affection; to idolize

This whole 'Thing' ... the challenge (for me) ... is about adoration … NOT love. I love readily. My preset response to living, Life, and all that I engage with as I live my life ... is to love. When I ask myself, “Do I love you?” it is entirely possible that I (as the individual [with all of the accoutrements that are part and parcel to my temperament and personality]) could even say, “Of course, I love you. But do I adore you? Possibly not. It may even be true that I really do not enjoy too large a dose of … you.” Could any of us actually vocalize that awareness to One with whom we share what is defined as “love?” (In whatever context defining a particular relationship.) Of course not! That would be, at least, unkind and insensitive … if not cruel. But do we not see just such an unspoken declaration all about us … being lived out in uninspired relationships that exist within those boundaries known as “Love?” Is it possible that I can love you … yet not be inspired, energized, motivated by that love? Yes … often! That awareness, of loving, may compel me to behavior, only because of a sense of obligation, responsibility, or some other uninspired dictate of conscience. But for a Romantic (the ‘affliction’ that I am ‘blessed’ with), love does not satisfy the demands that are ever-present in my Being.

What cranks my motor… charges my batteries… launches my rocket is adoration. Give me only that and I will be with you more than you could ever have dreamed. For, you see, I am one of those disgustingly incurable Romantics. I maintain that that is what was asked in “Fiddler on the Roof” when the question was posed; “Do you love me?” What he really wanted to know was “Do you adore me?” Perhaps even “Do you yearn for me … desire me?” He already had a certainty that he and his wife were safely nested in that “feeling of strong personal attachment induced by a sympathetic understanding or by ties of kinship.” What he wanted … needed … to know, was “Am I the person who you hunger for and are giddy with delight at having as Yours?” He was expressing a momentary sensitivity to romanticism.

Hence, it is my deduced conclusion, drawn from very personal experience, that to various women … who, in my past, have been enchanted with me, then decided that what they had (in whatever was their alternative circumstance), was more complimentary to their long-term ambitions, than me … I was but a Whimsy of intense, but momentary, enchantment. While I was perched on a whatever precarious pedestal (of prominence, popularity, power, or influence) that prevailed in the moment of our familiarity … I was what was desired (the object of a fleeting fascination ([if you will.]) But, when brought down to the level ground of rational intimacy, with all of my foibles exposed, the option of ‘Me’ didn’t look as appealing as it had before.

Just as the Performer on film, or stage looks so desirable … then, when offstage, is seen as a person … not an icon. At this juncture cold logic and personal agendas are applied and the scales of preference are influenced much more heavily on the pragmatic side, rather than on the side of that intangible known to us all as, “Romanticism.” I no longer inspired what I call “The WOW factor“… adoration from the other. And adoration is a constantly living dynamic in a thriving romance. Hence … I live alone. How’s that for an humbling personal insight?

(thoughts germinated, 12 October 1999 and pruned 18 Jan 2009)

Love, Adoration, and Romance

Love: A feeling of strong personal attachment induced by a sympathetic understanding or by ties of kinship.

Adore: To feel or express reverent admiration for; to regard with fervent devotion and affection; to idolize.

This whole thing with me is about Adoration…not love. Do I love you? Of course I can have a feeling of strong personal attachment to you. You have presently or in the past instilled a sense of understanding and kinship in me. But do I adore you? Ahhh… there is a question that goes to another place entirely.

Must I be inspired, energized, motivated, even awestruck by my love for you? I think not. The awareness of my love for you may compel me to behavior only because of a sense of obligation or responsibility or some other uninspired yet worthy dictate of conscience. What cranks my motor… charges my batteries… launches my rocket... is Adoration. Give me only that and I will be with you more than you could ever have dreamed. I maintain that that is what was asked in “Fiddler on the Roof” when the question was posed (by the lead character, of his wife); “Do you love me?” What the character really wanted to know was “Do you adore me?”

Hence, it is my deduced conclusion, drawn from very personal experience, that what have, in my past, been encounters of mutual enchantment have encompassed neither the personal attachment of love, nor the fervent devotion of adoration. While on a pedestal of prominence, popularity, power, or influence, I may have been what was desired... I was fleetingly Enchanting (if you will.) Then, when brought down to the level ground of rational intimacy, with all of my foibles exposed, the option of Me didn’t look as appealing as it had before.

Just as the performer on film, or stage looks so desirable… then offstage the performer is seen as a person… not an icon, I have known (in many past circumstances) the attentions of admirers. Then, with the onset of recognition of the mortal Me, cold logic and personal agendas were applied and the scales of overall life preferences exerted influence much more heavily than those on the side of intangible fancy. While I may have inspired a momentary “WOW!” factor… I did not establish that more preferred and quietly elusive (and whispered) “oh my!“ of appreciation. And it is for that shared sigh of blissful recognition… that reverential gaze of wonder that I wait. That reflexive adoration expressed by two lovers mutually worshiping each other in an idolatry expressed in inspired union. This is what I hunger for. For it is my conviction that adoration is the life-blood of a living and thriving romance. And I am, undeniably, a romantic.

So, “Why share all of this with me?” you ask. Certainly not to present answers...but to, instead, place considerations… definitions… perspectives in new unused vocabulary… before you. To offer you exposed thoughts and feelings that you would otherwise not bring to the surface of your awareness. To allow you to explore and discover fresh vistas of yourself that will peel back curtains of uncertainty that have, heretofore, not allowed you to appreciate all of your capabilities. To breathe into you a fresh breath of living borne of awareness of more of your Self. This is my desire for you, Dear Reader. That you will “Know Thyself” better through your consideration of this gift of my little reflections.


IMAGE: Mary Russell, BBC

Magical Moments

My initial response (and OH!, what a response!) to this photo was framed in thoughts of the location. But that left me wanting for a more satisfying definition of what the image generated within.

Today, after sharing the picture with a lovely new Friend, I revisited the emotions created by this overwhelming panorama. And now I know what it is that stirs me so about it. It does not relate to anything geographic (with all due respect to The National Geographic Society [its publisher] [smile].) No, Dear Friend, it stirs a core awareness of a relationship. A particular relationship of some twenty years passed. A union of Souls, Minds, Spirits, Dreams, Hopes, and yes, Bodies … that took us away from all that existed without. We lived in the lush, secure, and plentiful bounty of Love freely known, given, and confided in. The world below (for we did, indeed, live in the rarified air of a summit that transcended all that was obscured by the ‘clouds’ of our Bliss) was indistinguishable from where we existed. And it was just as this magnificent creation of art portrays. How gladdened my heart is to find an illustration of those magical moments. What a Gift!

I do hope that you too, Dear Reader, can attach a memory … or, perhaps, a hope … to the emotions and energies of this wonderful Presentation.

IMAGE is entitled “Our Good Earth,“ and is the handiwork of Charles C. Mann; published by National Geographic

You

Perhaps you have had the pleasure of a moment that, at the time, was so delightful that words to express your emotions escaped you. If so, you will understand the motivation behind what I share in this expression of a moment lived 29 September 1989 that I attempted to portray in the words of "YOU."

You

To have a kindred spirit … a like Soul with whom I can loose the chains of my normally well-controlled performance …

To be able to rest in the assurance that my inner-most secrets and desires can express themselves in an environment of safe acceptance …

To enjoy the free expression of long-desired, waiting to be experienced, wishes and fantasies in concert with Another who hears, and shares …

Such is the time shared with … such is the feeling … the reason for the joy … the source of the smile that has accompanied me all this day … ‘Inner Sunshine …’
You!


John-Michael/ 29 September 1989

IMAGE (of Torre del Lago, near Lucca, Italy) by Neil Jones, BBC

What I Desire

I have been asked what it is that I desire. This is not a new question. I gave the matter some consideration early in 2007. And, having reviewed my response, at that time, I find that nothing in my core desires has changed. Thus, I respond to the current inquiry, as I also share with You, My Dear Reader, what I would have “That Special Someone” in my life, know.



It is my desire …

To read poetry to You and watch your eyelids float to your cheeks in serene rest;

To listen to your breath and sense your peaceful comfort in my presence;

To awaken You with kisses lingering at every line, curve, shadow, and highlight of You from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head;

To greet each new day with the awareness that it is to be another together … You and I;

To listen to my spirit, in a moment of solitude, as it communes with your spirit … wherever You are;

To walk through Life’s gallery applauding, celebrating, and reveling in the beauty of all of Creation … knowing that Life’s Masterwork is forever in the chamber of my Heart;

To look heavenward and say, oft and joyously, “Thank You!”… at the thought of You;

For You to know, in every fibre of your existence, that in our Now and in our Forever ... we are One in eternal intimacy.

This is what I desire.

IMAGEs through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

Man Carves Wife a 6,000 Stair Path in Mountain

When Carole (my Dear Friend of 40 years) sent this story to me (she knows quite well where my interests lie), I simply HAD to present it to You. So ... "Thank you Carole."

An incredible love story has come out of China recently and managed to touch the world.

It is a story of a man and an older woman who ran off to live and love each other in peace for over half a century.

The 70-year-old Chinese man who hand-carved over 6,000 stairs up a mountain for his 80-year-old wife has passed away in the cave which has been the couple's home for the last 50 years.

In a twist worthy of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, friends and relatives criticized the relationship because of the age difference and the fact that Xu already had children.

Over 50 years ago, Liu Guojiang a 19 year-old boy, fell in love with a 29 year-old widowed mother named Xu Chaoqin..

At that time, it was unacceptable and immoral for a young man to love an older woman.. To avoid the market gossip and the scorn of their communities, the couple decided to elope and lived in a cave in Jiangjin County in Southern ChongQing Municipality.

In the beginning, life was harsh as they had nothing, no electricity or even food. They had to eat grass and roots they found in the mountain, and Liu made a kerosene lamp that they used to light up their lives.
Xu felt that she had tied Liu down and repeatedly asked him, 'Are you regretful? Liu always replied, 'As long as we are industrious, life will improve.'

In the second year of living in the mountain, Liu began and continued for over 50 years, to hand-carve the steps so that his wife could get down the mountain easily.

Half a century later in 2001, a group of adventurers were exploring the forest and were surprised to find the elderly couple and the over 6,000 hand-carved steps. Liu MingSheng, one of their seven children said, 'My parents loved each other so much, they have lived in seclusion for over 50 years and never been apart a single day. He hand carved more than 6,000 steps over the years for my mother's convenience, although she doesn't go down the mountain that much.'

The couple had lived in peace for over 50 years until last week. Liu, now 72 years, returned from his daily farm work and collapsed. Xu sat and prayed with her husband as he passed away in her arms. So in love with Xu, was Liu, that no one was able to release the grip he had on his wife's hand even after he had passed away.

'You promised me you'll take care of me, you'll always be with me until the day I died, now you left before me, how am I going to live without you?'

Xu spent days softly repeating this sentence and touching her husband's black coffin with tears rolling down her cheeks.

In 2006, their story became one of the top 10 love stories from China , collected by the Chinese Women Weekly. The local government has decided to preserve the love ladder and the place they lived as a museum, so this love story can live forever.

IMAGES and STORY from: Chinese Women Weekly

My "Thank You," to them, as well.

Allow This Moment

Allow This Moment

Please, do not be discomfited,
As I stand here … in still, and silent gaze.
A moment is required, for my senses,
To rest in the wonder of your presence.

No greeting … indeed, no words,
Can convey all that is my satisfaction,
In this wondrous Gift … that is You.
And I find my Self to be overcome in Joy.

So, I ask, please grant me this short while,
To gather all that spills from my cup of rapture.
That I might find some serene and gentle way,
To tell You, again, of my adoring Love.

John-Michael
10 July 08

"There's Still Romance in the Sixties"

When a poet sings the song that is of my heart's yearning ... I can but bow in gratitude ... and share its beauty with you.

Hence, with thanks to John Keefe, I offer his
"There's Still Romance in the Sixties".

With you beside me it is Spring for ever.

Blooming small white flowers…
velvet-soft in first warm sun;
purple and blue carpets of violets and bluebells.

No more winter with its icy winds…
its damp-cold snow and dismal rain.

With you beside me it is Spring for ever.

First warm earth-days of a new season.

An old sweater’s warmth,
while sitting on the stump of a once proud oak tree…
watching the tiny birds flit into budding branches overhead.

Wood creatures bustle about refreshing their minds,
after a long winter’s watch.

With you beside me it is Spring for ever.

Out of the cold life of a wintertime and into young-time.

Like the trees I feel a budding and tingle…
as the life giving juices seep through my body.

I raise my arms like tree branches to the sun,
and give thanks for you beside me.

With you beside me it is Spring for ever.

With you beside me it is winter no more;
it is Spring, then summer and then autumn…
and for the next winter I’ll have your Spring charm,
your Spring warmth, Your Spring flowering,
your Spring loveliness to blanket me.

With you beside me it will be Spring for ever and ever and ever.

IMAGES (Upper to Lower), Susan Mander, Tim Burgess, Gill Edwards, Elinor Teele; all are viewers of BBC News

In Love

For what seems like all of my life, I have sought some way to understand, and communicate, what is going on inside of Me. I now know that this is quite normal and usual for someone of my personality/temperament type. So, I am far more relaxed and less anxious about the matter than I was for my first forty years. Yet, I do deal with this compulsion to “label,” illustrate, or conceptualize my thoughts, impressions, inclinations, and feelings. And I do this in an almost-recreational frame of mind now. I live in a constant “game” of sorting through words, expressions, images, and various metaphors and analogies in a never-satisfied quest for simple language for my Soul’s use. This is not something that I had modeled for me by someone who made an impression on me at any juncture of my development. Oh no, this is a “hard-wired” component of my very Being. And I accept … nay, I embrace it as my gift … my gift to the world about me that lives in a struggle for an awareness of their feelings and/or the feelings of those around them. So, I present, before my little bit of the world, some of my discoveries in Self-communication, in the hope that I can equip someone else to recognize elements of their life experience; become comfortable with the identity of their Being, and enjoy a freedom in living that is (hopefully) somewhat better, or easier to deal with, than what they had known before their new awareness. I am delighted in the knowledge that I have achieved some small measure of success in this endeavor. So … here’s the thing for today.

I am in love. I know, I know, “So what’s new, John-Michael?” you respond. And I can truthfully reply, “This is different.” Yes, I do live loving my world and those who are integral parts of my world. But I am talking about that “silly,” romantic, dreamy, and sappy sort of being “in love.” Yes, the “hearts and flowers” variety. And I have been in love with this person for as long as I can remember.

Now, we could get all metaphysical and spiritualistic about this deal … and I guarantee you, I will hold my own in discussions of this “being in love” phenomenon if discussed in those terms. But I will leave that to far better equipped authorities like Doctor Brian Weiss (listed on the sidebar of this blog.) (If you have not read his “Only Love is Real,” I believe that you have denied yourself a wonderful view of life and living that could make your life experience far richer and even more fun.) But, as I said, I will leave those matters to him. I will just speak to this experience that I am the ultimate authority on … my life, and this Person who I am, and have been, in love with.

There is, within me, a space … a hollow … a vacuum, if you will, that has clearly definable aspects and traits. I first became aware of this “space” (which I have called an “Absence” in previous writings) when I first met a woman who “filled” the specifications of that space. The first time that I knew (amidst the loss of ability to breathe normally, and/or speak intelligibly [smile]) that overpowering knowledge that “Oh my gosh … SHE is THE ONE!!” Then followed all sort and manner of stupid, awkward, clumsy, and inept behaviors that cemented the certainty that this was, indeed, an extraordinary happening. The Person who had “Absence-filling” potential has been personified several times in my life. Each time, the sensations have been the same … and the circumstances have all been equally non-conducive to any pursuit of a “Happily Ever After” conclusion. Each time, the physical, intellectual, attitudinal, and personality characteristics have been identical. And each time the likelihood of fulfillment of “the Dream” have been, also, equally unattainable … for very different and disparate reasons.

I will tell you the most extreme and outrageous of the instances. (Brace yourself for an uncomfortable moment in John-Michael “Self-baring.”) I never met this Person. I only saw her in print and in imagery broadcast on television. But she had a physical likeness to several with whom I had enjoyed very intimate personal relationships with … several who fit the dimensions of my inner “Absence.” Princess Di (OK, stop that silly giggling … we could ask You about your “Impossible Dreams” too, now couldn’t we?) But, yes, Princess Di had the physical, temperamental, and personality traits that were quite “at home” in my Heart. Was this some physical desire? Get real! Of course not! I may be a hopeless Romantic, but I am no Fool. No, Dear Friend, I could never allow any remote thought of any “physical” intrusion into the private life of this extraordinary woman. But I was (and will forever remain) in love with her Person. And that is far better than any passing physical gratification could ever offer. And the messages that I received this morning awakened the very same experience in the person of the present personification of my Heart’s fulfilling.

This woman is just as unattainable as Princess Di. She and I are separated by circumstance that she has, herself, identified as “different sexes, from very different cultures, different generations, but we are very much alike” just as the same was equally true (though in far different extremes) with Princess Di. And today, I was able to unravel my own personal mystery as to the identity of my feelings for this Friend. It took several hours (as I made my morning newspaper deliveries) but I was able to clarify, for my own understanding, the nature of these feelings that I have had for this marvelous Lady. This is how I arrived at the “Princess Di” parallel as a means of communicating my thoughts and feelings.

How do I communicate to her the effect, that each thought of her generates … without totally freaking her out with fears of me being some lunatic (quiet You! I hear you snickering and see you pointing your “lunatic accusation” finger at me … [grin]) stalker or at the very least just some Flake without sensible bounds … has been my personal challenge. How can I tell this adorable person that she thrills me each time that she says “Hello” without scaring her into never greeting me again? Is this some crazy physical attraction run amok? No more so than the revered respect that I will always have for Princess Di. I could never entertain any remote thought of intruding into this Friend’s life. That would taint and distort the perfection of this honest and selfless love that I know for her. And even a remote potential for that loss is inconceivable. I would never allow it.

I love … am “in romantic love” with … this Person for who she is; for her physical beauty, most certainly; for those quirky revelations of her mind’s entertaining and delightful workings as revealed in her photos (not unlike the personality traits revealed in the myriad photos of Princess Di); and for the Spirit that is at the core of her personhood … (as revealed in her artistic work, her writings, and her expressed love for those who are blessed with the gift of living as elements of her daily life.) I am in love with her for all of those motivating reasons. Though there is no consideration of any selfish “return on investment” of my Heart in her. This is a very real and alive aspect of this “Love thing.” It is something that I have never tried to discuss or explain before. I do hope that I am having some success in doing so here.

So, in keeping with my life-long quest to make open and available aspects of loving, living, caring, and feeling … I lay all of this out there … for your consideration and imagination. I do not hope to, nor expect to, answer any burning questions about Life here. I have no illusions of rendering any sweeping revelations or theories regarding matters of earth-shattering import. I only offer, in complete humility and candor, a peek into the genuine workings of my Being … with the hope that You, My Dear Reader, will respectfully realize what I present as something from which you may take any, all, or none, as a gift … intended to be yours for your enhancement of your personal living experience. I hope that I have given You an opportunity to ask yourself gentle questions about the nature of your affections … that you can use those insights to enhance your relating to those for whom you care. And, most importantly, for your betterment in knowing your beautiful Self.

So, yes, I am in love with Someone. And the Standard set by the dimensions specified by my Heart are quite well defined. Will I ever meet a woman who is simultaneously "available, willing, and "Absence filling"? I have no hint! But I am quite certain that I will never insult the love of anyone by accepting them whilst still longing for the filling of my Heart's yearning. So, there You have it!

This “Self-Awareness through Self-revelation” thing is something that I am very awkwardly stumbling along with. I thank you for your patient forbearance and patience with me in this honest endeavor. I do it, not just for Me … but for You. Because I do, indeed, love You. (Though, in all likelihood, not in the same theme as the “Princess Di mode.” [That should give Jim ‘SulDog’ Sullivan some sense of comfort. {grin}])

Making Love to Your World

How Do You … ?

How do You conduct your Self
When You enter the restaurant where She is employed?

How do You manage the impulse of your Heart
That wants so to see her … to bask in the serene beauty of her smile?

How do You bridle the enthusiasm of your spirit as she looks at You … And her eyes tell You that she is, indeed, genuinely happy to see You?

How do You respond when She tells You that she loves your poetry,
Your words that struggle to express the inexpressible?

How do You acknowledge her request for a poem …
Written from You … to Her … without overstepping sensitive bounds?

How?

You ask the spelling of her full name … not the name that she works by.

You “listen” to the Spirit that She speaks with as she pronounces it.

You hear the “sound” of her Heart’s Voice as she acknowledges You.

Then, You write:



Madeline

Through our tiny window of opportunity …
We allow our Hearts access.

Without regard for circumstance,
We embrace this Gift … that is Ours.

Deaf to Voices of Reason,
We float above the lifeless realities of Detail.

Hearing only the Song of our Hearts …
We harmonize in Loving agreement.

Though We can never Be …
We Are!



Then, You return home … Type your thoughts … Post them to your blog (that others can see how a passionate Romantic lives his daily life) … print a copy of the blog posting … and return the printed page to ...
Madeline.

And THAT, my dear Friend is today’s answer to “How Do You?” As you live yet another day “making Love to your world.”

(And, Yes ... this is exactly how this morning unfolded.)

For This is Wisdom

For this is Wisdom; to love, to live,

To take what Fate, or the Gods, may give,

To ask no question, to make no prayer,

To kiss the lips and caress the hair,

Speed passion’s ebb as you greet its flow,

To have ... to hold ... and, in time ... let go!

LAURENCE HOPE

aka: Adela Florence Cory Nicolson


09 April 1865 - 04 October 1904








IMAGES: SCENES through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com
LAURENCE HOPE Wikipedia

Moments With You

Softly… delicately… the sweet song with warm mellow tones moves gently through the chords of my heart.


‘Tis the harmony, without structure or discernible melody, of united impressions, emotions, and inclinations that join together as the instruments of an orchestra.


All to the tempo of an energized spirit … and soaring hope.


And the resultant sound … the completed effect … the blessing enjoyed is the music of a blissful heart.


What concert hall … what Conductor … what gathering together of elements can produce such a happening?



Moments with You.




IMAGE through the gracious courtesy of Ian Britton, FreeFoto.com

Choice … Loss

I would protest in loudest of voice,
Register my complaint and confirm it in the most strident of terms.
But, alas, there are no ears to hear.
And my fury is diluted into a whimper of anguish and despair.

For, it was never mine, in Fact.
All that I knew was the thrill of a Promise that lacked in substance.
All that I really heard were words ...
Whispered in tones of wistful awareness of Impossibility.

But the words were the Ones that I yearned to hear.
The voice in timbre that stirred comfort and peaceful acceptance.
All too willingly I hushed dissent … dismissed the tones.
Only postponing the inevitable unhappiness that accompanies loss.

And loss it is … loss of all possibilities.
What never was, ‘could have been,’ had only the circumstance allowed.
Circumstance and choice of will.
Not my will, but hers … beyond my influence or control … she chose …
We lose.


John-Michael
22April 2008

Envelop Me

I listen, in silence, as your body entreats …
Every part of you speaks out … each whispers its request.
My face hears, through the sweet fragrance of your hair,
“This is where I must be … Envelop me.”

Nestled ‘gainst my chest, your shoulders make clear,
Your wish for a place of unassuming welcome … a refuge.
Your hands guide mine to cup you in insulating warmth.
As I hear “Within these arms I yearn to be … Envelop me.”

Racing through each day … from Requirement to Demand,
In these early dawning hours your legs seek retreat.
And summon mine to cocoon them in firm, gentle repose.
Your contented sigh confirming … “Envelop me.”

Independent and strong, you’re a Force through each day.
But in these still, silent moments I covet hearing you affirm …
“Here, together, secure happiness is mine.
Wrapped in your love, I wish most to be … Envelop me.”

As One we breathe … ensconced in serene harmony.
Unspoken, yet clearly understood, our bodies confide,
Messages and affirmations that will endure the madness of day.
I gladly embrace your gentle command, “For all eternity …
Envelop me.”

John-Michael
04 April 2008

Artfully You

A great and grand Gallery,
This world of mine.
Replete with fine works,
Masterpieces sublime.

Each element in balance.
All placed and arranged.
Familiar works, well known,
Some new, as yet, strange.

And here I find You,
Placed alone in this spot.
Not fitting with others,
An Unknown, like as not.

You have seen me admiring
All manner of style.
Heard my laudations,
You wait with a smile.

Accolades and tributes,
Easy flow from my lips.
You await my attention,
As my focus now shifts.

Afresh and anew,
You capture my gaze.
Acclamation and awe,
I pay homage and praise.

Yet again, I‘m astonished.
The Master has done.
A creative wonder,
My adoration you’ve won.

An excited awareness,
Life’s gift, fresh and new.
Creation’s perfection,
Artfully sculpted in You.

John-Michael

28 March 2008