What Remains

I wrote this ‘Breath’ for a couple of long standing, who are enduring the death of one. I felt myself in their place, in their depth of love and loss. I wept with the carelessness of my loving, my wonton assumptions that it/we/I would always be wonderfully thus. Now this letter is for all of us that we may hold our hearts more mindfully, purposefully, as beacon’s of desire to be present for the gift of loving.
This Valentine’s is on a new moon day with a mandate to carry what and who really matter deeply into the matrix of our choices, to make decisions to love wisely, creating and following heart’s desires, no matter what. I write to remind myself that these days of glory will not come again.

Forgive my leaving. Forgive my pretending life, in facing unspeakable death. Forgive every moment lost to fully loving you. Forgive my not knowing we would run out of time. Forgive my breaking heart.
I ask you…do not carry me forward as I am in this moment; broken, ill, inept. Rather, see me lifted as a fiery baton, swirling mad circles, or a flag, wiggled and free with wind. When you see a parade march by, I am the drum-major’s beat pumping the oomPaPa,
What remains of these years coroneted by our love is up to you. For my part, I take with me shared meals built sacred by quiet hours of Grace, my chair just so to yours. My cup, your cup, filled with daily nectar, sipped patiently, unknowingly, through sharp words, silly ideas, and tender smiles. We drank all we could. We did all we knew how. How can regret remain?
As last moments drip down, one by one, we splurge, spending and shaping each one for eternity, almost breathless in the elixir of love. Hands rest upon hands, their warmth and weight holding the rich, golden stillness of everything unspoken.

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