08-26-2006
Have you ever been so ecstatic that you just can't focus? Your fingertips itch and tremble like a posessed garden hose erratically flip-flopping with all that water impatient to burst out of its rubber confines ... your thoughts dart around: a field full of hyper grasshoppers ...
And ever has it been that love knows not it's own depth until the hour of separation ~Kahlil Gibran~
Monday, February 04, 2008
08-01-2006:
I linger there, where the earth sighs: night
you don't write, you don't call ... and I miss you. Your words are the much anticipated rain after an arduous drought, your laughter voluptuous drops on my parched throat.
I attempt to recall the innocence of childhood ... the pureness, the bliss of being present in only the moment for lack of knowledge of anything else: unencumbered by notions of right or wrong, impressions or opinions. Before a rift forms between our heart and our words ... my hands extended across space, fingers in the wind, children know...
I love you because you smell of childhood ... eternal ... single ... one and everything.
I linger there, where the earth sighs: night
you don't write, you don't call ... and I miss you. Your words are the much anticipated rain after an arduous drought, your laughter voluptuous drops on my parched throat.
I attempt to recall the innocence of childhood ... the pureness, the bliss of being present in only the moment for lack of knowledge of anything else: unencumbered by notions of right or wrong, impressions or opinions. Before a rift forms between our heart and our words ... my hands extended across space, fingers in the wind, children know...
I love you because you smell of childhood ... eternal ... single ... one and everything.
Embers
And May 9, 2006 in the gooey thick of a rocky relationship, desperately trying to focus my plundered mind on the MCAT I found inspiration and hope in words ...
It's been a while since I went deep sea diving in the enchanted, liquid forest of words ... searching for just the right pearl(s) ... just the right shape, just the right shade of blue or pink or cream ... to make that necklace I found in the coaxing dunes of slumber
But, yesterday and today I dived to feel the ocean absorb all of me into her bosom ... to rediscover what I had shunned for so long ...
Paulo Coelho wrote a book titled Eleven Minutes. It stirred something in me and rekindled my desire. Thank you, Mr. Coelho wherever you are.
It's been a while since I went deep sea diving in the enchanted, liquid forest of words ... searching for just the right pearl(s) ... just the right shape, just the right shade of blue or pink or cream ... to make that necklace I found in the coaxing dunes of slumber
But, yesterday and today I dived to feel the ocean absorb all of me into her bosom ... to rediscover what I had shunned for so long ...
Paulo Coelho wrote a book titled Eleven Minutes. It stirred something in me and rekindled my desire. Thank you, Mr. Coelho wherever you are.
January 26, 2007:
Love is exciting, n'est-ce pas?
Even science, with its dense collection of factual minutia, research protocols and statistical analyses, confirms that love is, indeed, an altered physiological state.
But any warm blooded human whose heart ever revved up after an almost imperceptible, yet undeniably tangible gaze into the eyes of the beloved knew this to be true sans proof of fluctuating hormonal levels.
You know what I’m talking about. All of a sudden you have a keen sense of blood rushing through your veins for the very first time. And to think, you didn’t even know you could actually feel your veins. But here you are hyperaware of every previously disregarded inch of your body.
I don't know about laterlized brain function or platelet serotonin transporter, but I know that the sound of my heart pounding against my ribcage drowns everything else out when I'm in your presence.
Love is exciting, n'est-ce pas?
Even science, with its dense collection of factual minutia, research protocols and statistical analyses, confirms that love is, indeed, an altered physiological state.
But any warm blooded human whose heart ever revved up after an almost imperceptible, yet undeniably tangible gaze into the eyes of the beloved knew this to be true sans proof of fluctuating hormonal levels.
You know what I’m talking about. All of a sudden you have a keen sense of blood rushing through your veins for the very first time. And to think, you didn’t even know you could actually feel your veins. But here you are hyperaware of every previously disregarded inch of your body.
I don't know about laterlized brain function or platelet serotonin transporter, but I know that the sound of my heart pounding against my ribcage drowns everything else out when I'm in your presence.
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