“Beyond all ideas of right and wrong there is a field, I will be meeting you there.”- Rumi
In the stillness of my sleep,
I wake with my mind stirring,
my heart tensing.
The hunger for your touch once again,
and the realization that so much has changed within me,
could I ever allow the touch I crave so deeply to happen,
if ever presented,
if ever offered,
would I?
My heart aches this morn.
My mind questions reality.
Questions love.
Questions my own sanity.
How can I crave so deeply that,
that has hurt me so much?
How can I desire that,
that betrayed our love so fiercely?
Yet I do.
I lay here in the darkness of the morning hours.
Imagining your touch.
I feel you writing love notes on my flesh as I sleep.
I feel your breath on my neck.
Your fingers in my hair.
I hear you singing songs to me,
as your eye’s sparkle with love that radiates through us both.
I smell the scent of roses,
from our sexing.
Memories flash through my minds eye,
tormenting my heart and soul.
Parading before me in their dance,
pulling on the strings that you still hold the reigns too.
I am far from free.
I am the shadow in your life that you long not to shed light on.
I am far from free.
I am the reason your heart to beats a little faster still.
That voice in your mind that speaks to you when you cannot escape your soul.
That is our connection still.
Those reigns you tug on them.
Miles distance us.
Time passes all too slowly.
We make love to others,
We build memories without each other,
We move forward,
and our souls,
our souls pull.
I am not free.
As well as you.
I know that time has moved us.
I know that time has changed us.
I know that things will never be again,
the same.
Yet I crave.
I hunger.
I wake in the night hours haunted,
You come to me then.
You come to me all to often.
I adore the moments when I feel you close.
I adore the moments that my heart quivers with a flutter of memory,
the pain of your love is addictive.
I dance between casting you away,
and calling you in.
My desires feel wrong.
Feel crazy at best.
Beyond all ideas of right and wrong,
there is a field,
It is our field.
It always has been.
It is where I go in these dark morning hours when you wake me from my slumber.
When you speak to me in my dreams.
It is this field between right and wrong,
where I will meet you once again.
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other”
doesn’t make any sense.
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.”
It is our field.
We have gone to far.
The depth of this connection,
It will carry through this lifetime,
and a thousand more.
There is a field.
Meet me there my love.
So we might free ourselves.
-KW