Courting a Divine Feminine

Your oceanic, intergalactic eyes of stardust spectacular wave me over, earnestly and evocatively saying hello, and suddenly I'm wavering – at the brink between sanity and madness, a laissez-faire teetering of heart and soul at the precipice of creation or cataclysm and perhaps both at once. My heart and spirit see yours, and I can offer in this courtship the only bouquet fit for your resplendence: the totality of my Being, my undivided awareness, the whole of my soul; all of my mundanity, my creativity, and my divinity. 

The way in which you exist in this world inspires me to weave together words, oh weaver of otherworldly embodied experience and magic! 

I love the way the whole of you glimmers sublime in the sunshine, your hair shimmering silver, light refracting and reflecting Light. You are the Light fantastic, Grace of the Goddess, all the Goodness of the Gods.

I love the way your body moves to music. I love the way your body creates music. I love that you are music. And that you are music to my soul. I love tasting the fruits of your wild, beautiful creative processes: your paintings, your weavings, your wanders, your writings, your dances and your circles spiraling high unto the heavens. 

I love the range and depth of your emotional, embodied experience. I love witnessing your rainbow body of feeling tones, from lighthearted joy effusive and diffuse dancing in the light, to the heavy weight of dark despair; no, I don't wish that you experience heartache, rage, challenge, or melancholy, but the grace with which you move through it all is a beautiful wonder. I am as awestruck by your smile as I am by your tears. 

I love the way your mind works. I love the way you cogitate, slice, perceive, question, and think; I drink thirsty from your endless well of fresh, cool perspectives in this desert landscape.  I love the delicate way you sometimes use your words, choose your words, dancing ideas softly articulate in spoken form – just as I love the flash of passion that sometimes flares when you're throwing layers of language down deep into the ground. 

You are endlessly magnetic in this majestic embodied form and I can't help but want to be near you. I love the sound and feeling of your heartbeat – the low hum of an ancient world's drum pressed against my chest, vibrating all creation into being. I love running my fingers across the small curve of your lower back, these vast sandstone landscapes echoing in the lines of your figure, these clouds of feeling, the softness of your cheek against mine. I love feeling your breath against my neck, like two swans entangled in the mystic mist of an endless emerald lake nestled in evergreens – and the way our wings touch, flexing and folding and fanning, when we lean in and kiss; time stops when we do; in fact, it never existed.

This is all a dream.  

And you are the dream from which I never want to awaken.

–

Dear One, I've known you for years now, and I've loved you this whole time, from the very moment I met you. 

And here we are.    

And now there's a new kind of "we." A "we" built on the firm foundations of time, trust, authenticity, and openness, hardship and play, challenge and ease. An effervescent, ever present "we" that's standing the test of time because it already has. 

And I feel immeasurable ease, eagerness and joy about beginning this new chapter in the Book of Lavender and Sage. Let’s call it Desert Primrose.