Someday I Will Awaken

S omeday I will awaken in the middle of a great love story. I will then be able to make sense of everything in my life, which lead me to such an inexplicably perfect moment in time. It will be during a picnic under a big tree in the middle of an endless golden flower bespeckled field, continuously undulating like an ocean all about us as we drift. We will be so happy we will swear we must have just died, and so would now and again pinch one another just to feel a part of the world in which are bodies live. It will be 72 degrees out, and we will be sitting on a blanket that is too small for both of us. Consequently we'll be squirming from one position to the other, while trying to be on more of the blanket as well as closer to one another. We will have brought too much food and hardly eat any of it, for we already feel full. We will also bring wine, but feel too giddy and drunk with love to even finish or half full glasses. There will be big white cauliflower clouds in the sky, which make us a little cooler as they pass before a loving sun, and then it will get a bit warmer when they float on. We will be in no hurry to do anything or say anything pressing, and our minds will be miraculously empty, for words will seem pointless in the context of what we are feeling. Though, we will still share our dreams and laugh about our former lives, before we kneow one another, and how odd and uncertain everything once seemed. When we see a bird, we will try and identify it, and then convince one another what bird we think it is, but knowing little of ornithology we will probably both be wrong. But, I will let her convince me in the end, and she will accuse me of just saying that to make her happy, and I will all too readily agree. Soon after we will see another bird and start the cycle all over again.
 

As if through a observatory telescope on a rounded mountain top on a clear moonless night. I will look back at all those who have come before her and for the first time feel no more sorrow, anger, frustration, or resentment. For, I will know that those women were not to blame for simply not being her, and neither was I for not being the one for them. I will release it all to the heavens in a niagra of with held emotion, and it will be unstoppable, uncontrollable, and its power unfathomable. I will marvel at the strength it took for me to carry all that pressure and weight within me for as long as I did. Her hair, ears, lips, neck, arms, hands, breasts, stomach, back, rear, legs, feet, and every inch of skin I will follow with my fingers and mouth until I find the end of all things. Her body will be the only path I travel for the remainder of my days. Her pleasure and happiness will be my pilgrimage and my mission. Yet Strangely, I can tell you everything about that day, but what I can not tell you is what she looks like, for how can you explain the most beautiful thing you have never before seen? Her face today may be a mystery to me, but someday it will be the only thing I can clearly see. I will protect her heart with my life, for it will be the nutrients I need, for which I will owe my very reason for being. Together we will be a flower. I will be her roots, stamen, and stem just as she will be my leaves, petals, and nectar. Together we will finally see the reason for why we have always seemed to be so broken and jagged individually. This we will realize as we die inside one anothers eyes, for that is how it had to be, in order to be able fit together so perfectly.