Monday 19 May 2014

...when time stood still...


when time stood still  

the ocean roared
and
clouds raced across the sky
and
the
heavens raged
nature’s fury
nature’s cry
drove the rain into his face.
needles
stinging
he stood alone and the salt of his tears melted into the running drops over burning cheeks
he wished
it might have been a still, a starlit night
but the rain and the storm were on with all that was...

...and...

...where he saw her then it had been still, too still,  but for the last shallow breaths coming from her, inaudible almost, had he not seen the quick rising and falling on her pillows. She was safe here and the awareness of time only in the letting go and the return to her essential being...like the dance of the tides they had watched together...no time...there was no time...
...just silence now , comforting  silence, holy silence,  womblike ...held together in infinite being....one more time...bound in love...but no time...

...he spoke softly to her who was no longer there but  her purpose now on the edge to somewhere and she turned her head away from the intrusion in her journeying...he needed to connect...she needed to let go...there was no meaning in it  any more , no need for the togetherness he craved so much ...words were too much...words were heavy, a burden, words that had been so hard in the learning and the sharing and so easily spoken, a treasure won and now let go...

....the wind was cold, it was not yet spring. The first swallows had arrived  with a chatter and there was the scent of Hawthorn in the air,  Bluebells in the wooded clearings as he walked, Red Campion and Queen Anne’s lace in the hedgerows...the promise of spring  when the dew drops hung heavy and the doves called out loud. He loved this time of buttercup meadows when the sun warmed his back as he walked with an easy step. He looked forward to a stop at the  inn for a pint now and a drag reserved for that delicious moment when the pint stood there in front of him and bade him take a sip...he looked forward  to sharing  all the gifts nature had shown him so fully...

...the Inn at Tarr Steps was his favourite place that he aimed for, he loved it here, he loved the slated roof, the homey feeling, the grey stone walls where ivy climbed  to frame the windows , the gurgling brook, the oak wood where he first saw a purple hairstreak butterfly. He loved the warmth of the sunny garden after the cool of the forest... he loved the oldness of it all when he walked, aware as in reverence to the now and what had been, the last few steps across the rocky bridge built  long ago and he loved the feeling that he was but one in centuries of weary wanderers who were longing for a hot home pasty and a quiet pint of Exmoor Ale....

...is when he saw her...
...her face turned towards the sun, eyes closed and smiling...
...and...
 ...in just that moment he knew she would be his...

he stood and he watched until she stirred feeling his eyes upon her and
she opened her eyes and they met somewhere that space  only lovers knew
both smiled
and that first smile joined them forever...
...is where they began their journey together...

‘mind if I sit down?’ he asked...
‘no, sit’, she said... she shifted in her chair and crossed her booted legs....she was a walker too.
she was beautiful
he was beautiful

‘cigarette?’, he offered
‘thank you,’ she said, and reached out to him with slender fingers
...it was the smart thing to do...
the bridge to begin to talk when you did not yet know one another, inhaling would bridge the space of silences, exhaling steadying the beating heart...everybody did it then...danced this deadly  dance...
...no harm in it was there...
...not then, oh no!...
...no one knew it...
...not then...

..and...

 ...he remembered that sun speckled day when the new leaves were still transparent enough to let the light through and dapple and dazzle the mossy ground...
and
he sat , close...
and he was holding her hand which now lay cold in his in the still point of the moment when

the heavens raged
and
the clouds raced
and
the ocean roared...
...and...
...he stood alone in the night on the ridge of pebbles that clacked like gunshots and the water sucked and gurgled in the incoming tide...
...when...
... the salt of his tears melted into the stinging drops
over
his
burning
cheeks...


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