Beyond All Eternity
It had been a long long time since last he had seen her, yet never would or could he forget, how the maiden’s magic danced across her lips and in the sway of her hips, how the nurturing tenderness of the mother warmed her cheeks to their rosey soft red, how the crows toes of the crone frames her eyes, a glint wisdom far beyond her years and a sign of laughter only a life truly lived can give.
He sought not to forget, nor was it that he sought to remember, it was a painful endeavour this yearning without ever truly knowing whether ever they would meet again. This day, this day though he had to battle to keep his wits about him, as pleasing as her remembrance is to him, today he was plagued by it, no thought was without her, no thing In the world about him had not a hint or hair of hers, he fought to find his way to a place of peace, even there she awaited him.
His thoughts, though his own, he could not steer, he could not get clear of her, he deeply wanted to stay in the dream, needed not to though, needed to go about his day.
This day would be the one that returned him to himself, as he meandered what some would call madness within his mind he would find within his longing something he lost as long ago as he saw her.
Throughout the tasks and duties he set about that day he would allow himself moments, within these he would find her in his arms, he would find himself lost in her eyes, he would find senses of himself, shards that shone brighter in her presence, fragments that felt familiar though they seemed not to be of him at all.
Whenever these familiar fragments made an appearance he would tear himself away from the moment, he wrestled his mind back to the task at hand. He feared these fragments, though feeling familiar he thought them foreign, not of himself, not pieces he knew.
These moments were fictions, fantasies and fabrications, though so they were, within them she had hid clues and hints, heading him home.
The foreign though familiar fragments, each and every one, were bringing him closer to where he belonged, guiding him gently to a place he had forgotten, through the toil of living, by the doing what he thought needed to be done daily, he had left something vital behind.
Here in the day to day, here where he allowed moments to be part of him, this is where he would come to see the truth of things. The truth that he knew not he denied, a wholeness he unaware sought.
For the magic about her, the magic within her had planted seeds, deep within his heart, a heart that had for so long forgotten how to feel, a heart that was heading home, that mending and busy to heal. It is within these moments, these fear free fractions of time, that the light shone through the darkness, the light that fed the seeds, that told them it was time to grow, to spout from the darkness where they were planted, to break through barriers and start bearing fruit.
Each of these moments he treasured more, every one he allowed himself to be held by brought him closer, through treasuring them he began to gain understanding, with each new revelation he was brought closer still to that which he knew not he sought. Each treasured trinket of time adding to this new knowledge, adding the library of his inner workings, building on the foundation he was now laying.
As time spent in and through the labours of the day started to lose its meaning, as the seconds, hours, days and weeks passed, he came to see himself, he became aware of himself, not the kind of awareness needed out in the field or forest, this knowing, this sight, this being was of a different kind, the kind that is the light in darkness, the light that illuminates the corners and crevasses of a forgotten cave, that shows the critters and creatures that have made home there, that shone on things that needed mending and tending.
With this new guiding light he ventured deeper, into the darkness he strove fearlessly, for he sought more moments.
He sought himself in those moments, those moments with her, the tenderness of her touch, the light of her laughter, within these he sought himself.
For the seeds had started growing, the fragments he had started piecing together, the shards he now held bravely, looking to make them whole.
He knew now that what he sought was not of this world, it was not in the labours of the day nor the coins they paid, what he sought was inside himself, he knew now, more so than ever before, that he sought himself.
In himself he saw the moments, he saw the path and the place he wanted to be, he saw his way home.
His way home, to himself, to her...
For he knew that the moments were all he had, those moments made eternity, those fragments made whole were his way home.
There she awaited him, there the moments were real, there eternity was not long enough.
