Mutual Gravity

In a wandering dream meadow, we walk together in silence, listening to the chorus of the wind as it dances through the tall grass. Above, the clouds languidly roll across the sun, painting shadows on the landscape, and then disappearing into the infinite distance. Your hand rests in mine and I can almost feel the quickening of your heart.

Our breath dances together in preparation of a kiss. And in our solitude, accompanied only by space and time, we kiss and all the particles between us are obliterated as our lips come together. The joining of our hearts is the only religion that guides me. There is God in all things but I feel him most when we are joined like this.

When my arms slip around you and my hand finds the back of your neck. At that moment I have transcended beyond this mortal wreck and have become one with the energy of all that was and will be. There is immortality in these moments, but the embrace is always too short, too quickly undone. An infinity and an instant mingled in some tragic metaphysical dance willed to endure but doomed to end.

Like the clouds that diffuse and obliterate with time, I know that age and distance, the physical and the emotional divisions of existence, will ensure that even the greatest love will one day be swallowed in the ether. We will lie side by side beneath the earth, linked by stones that tell our abbreviated story, and the residue of our minds, our ambitions, will move away from our dispossessed forms.

Yet somewhere in the universe, the energy of our conjunction will reconstitute into the energy from which stars are born. And perhaps we will become binary giants, locked in the orbital dance imposed by our mutual gravity.