The movies tell you so much about love. The pulsating emotions. The torment. The pain. The fights and the hardship. The pumping heart beating life blood into submission. The screaming and pain. The sacrifice. It is all lies.
Love is the ocean dark and vast; its waves lapping against the shore carrying in their arms the weight of a thousand stories shared. Glass shards once deadly -smoothed and silken into a trinket for a child to find and adore. Love is the treasure and the waves. The sun and the moon and the vast expanse of sky that suspends them high up in the air. Weightless. Given freely. Without strings.
And on the horizon, where the expanse meets the dipping sun of the sky – the world and spaces in between are infinite. Like love spread before bare feet – the tide of possibility spread like a blanket; open and vulnerable. Free. Each rhythmic swell carries within it the beauty of truth and the connections of lifetime’s gone before. Such is friendship. The moon’s cycle and the ocean’s ebb and flow eddies and swills holding sacred the essence of love. The unraveling and recombining. The separate and the together. Each yearning and knowing but each at home in their own power. Content in their place.
At night, in the blackened hours, the moon casts it’s pearlescent glow across the void, shimmering light on to the unknown- engendering the sheen of love’s gentle endurance. The soft companionship and gentle care of water’s salve. The late-night conversations of broken hearts and desecrated minds. The symbiotic nurture of each other. No one entity holds dominion. Hands entwined in a mutual submission and resurrection. The stillness is all. There are no rallying cries. No grand gestures. A simple, uncomplicated existence within the mellifluous scheme of the cycle. Bound by a smile shared like a seashell whispering of depths unchartered; words trusted and true.
Beneath the calm, a world of each other pulsates with life- a sychronised display of the dependent and independent. The need for each other matches the need for self -fingertip by fingertip. Hearts beating – giving and receiving care without question or retribution. Love does not sacrifice but participates freely.
And there will be storms – cascading and heavy, knocking bystanders off their feet. But whilst you are drowning, love will know immediately that you are not waving. And without hesitation, it will offer a rope to safety. Many times, over the years the rescuer and the rescued will change hands. Ropes switching in times of need. Each for each never counting the difference.
As dawn breaks, the first light of morning will release a glimmer across the surface of the restless sea, casting a golden path that leads to hope. In this serene moment; friendship is the sunrise and the sunset, the promise of a new beginning, a fresh start that gifts the potential of memories yet to come. It is in these quiet dawns that love is at its most profound, reminding us that after the darkest night, the light will always return under friendship’s glow.
Love is the silence in the spaces between the waves. Love is the taciturn gentle contemplation of the moon. There is no need for speech to break the moment. The words have already been spoken. Love does not bind itself in ultimatum or ask anything in return of itself but love. And it will never ask you to become half of yourself but will urge you to be. To flourish as the whole of yourself; walking along the damp golden sand of evening. Together as two.
Originally published on Vocal by Celia in Underland
Proud ViM 