Sparrows

The hour is not late enough to write such things.  But there are only twenty four of them.

Sparrows

Whisper.  Just a whisper.  Anything louder could be snatched out of the air.  Taken.  Caged.  But a whisper will make you reach.  You have to stretch, strain, spill forth from yourself.  You will reach across the chasm, and the softly spoken words will gently brush your fingertips.  A breeze so faint you would miss it if not for the calm morning air.  

 

She whispers an exhausted “good night” as the sun pokes her head above the horizon.  You return the wish, but she is gone now.  Close enough to feel a heartbeat but away from you now, outside of space and time.  And for the first time, you are here.  More present than ever before in your life.  All of the rest of the world around you pours through you and is regarded with measure.

 

But then a pulse.  A regularly beating heart and soft breath.  The warm sleeping human being next to you erupts in your conscious mind and she is too much.  You will burst.  Overflow.  An infinite cosmos of possibility  lies sleeping next to you.  Something so volatile you are afraid to move.  But there is peace here.  Peace so calm and serene that it would last for a lifetime if you would let it.  A single peaceful moment.  Not stretched out, but explored.  Lived in and through.  A moment filled, like your mind, with the infinite soul of the only other person.  


Infinity.  Infinity is a strange thing to encounter.  It has no beginning, no edges to define its regions and there is no vantage point from which you can gaze at it.  But it is there.  Behind a face that, like you, draws breath.  Resting on a pillow.  Blooming thoughts from depths and heights unimaginable.  And she gave you a whisper.  A call.  An invitation to caress the face of God.  A gift suspended in an infinite moment.  So short.  But it is all the time that we have together.

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