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"Children of August"
Topic Started: Mar 20 2010, 02:19 PM (60 Views)
NathanielBlack
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While February might be a time for hearts to soar, August has always been to me personally the month for heartbreak. It's the time of year when the cool chill of fall begins to carry in on the breeze, showing signs of a cold winter ahead. When that thick fog begins to roll in off the lakes and rivers which hearts can become lost in and the first of the cold rains begin to fall. August for me is a sad time of year when young love's first lost -- and old love's remorsed.....So rather you're one of those heartfelt-harmed children of August or not, if you find love, keep love; reach over and embrace them while you still can -- because a lifetime of heartache is only a foggy August morning away.



"Following in your shadow; Standing in your footsteps"

We tend to emulate the ones we love. They become part of us as we grow closer to them so perhaps it's only natural we want to walk in their shoes; understand them better than we initially do. Though a general sensation, there are differences between the way we emulate family and friends, and the way we emulate our lovers. For the former, few walk the same troubled shoes intentionally -- preferring to be content with the lessons and examples set by parents; grandparents; siblings; other family; childhood and lifelong friends and so on. We follow their example of what we ourselves find moral -- and learn to avoid the mistakes we believe they made. Rarely do we follow the same mistakes they made unless we allow ourselves to, or perhaps, when we feel the need to punish ourselves by making their suffering our own. Perhaps that is what drives some to transform from abused to abuser, or to take up the bottle like those we loved -- to take the self-destroying vices they held and torment ourselves with them. So then, what of the latter?

The way we emulate our lovers is a very different matter.

Where we learn from, and are nurtured by, those we keep close in the family sense, we absorb and connect deeply on an emotional level with those we bond romantically with. Once we realize how deeply our affections run for them, we want to know them -- to understand them in a way that no one else can -- so we do what we must to gain a better understanding of them. The most natural approach is to take their own traits and habits as your own -- the way they think; they feel; they act -- and in doing so seek to understand them by their own experiences which now become your own. It's an act of bonding that becomes more intense and personal the deeper the emotions and the closer the relationship. It's actually not surprising that many people don't know this level of emotion, or at best only touch upon the surface of it, because in order to become this close to someone they would have to forego their own personal needs in favor of the other's needs, which is not common for many. This kind of affection is often associated with "Soulmates" which is in-fact true, but not solely restricted to them. Regardless, the closer we connect to someone we love passionately the more perhaps we become them and they-us. If nothing else it's the symbiotic relationship where two people learn to nurture and support each other and in doing so become stronger together.

So then, perhaps the true sign of two lover's deeper connection with one-another comes not from how they show such in the time they are together -- but in what they take of the other with them in the times they are not. In such a sense it could be said then that the longer two are apart -- the closer they could become.

Perhaps absence DOES make the heart grow fonder....



In one dance, the length of a sweet song, time seems to stand still -- but when we stop to take a breath, the moment is long since gone.



(The following was written to, and should be read to, the music of "http://www.ferryhalim.com/orisinal/others/rain.htm")

"Dreaming Awake"

Sometimes I wake up in the early mornings when the sunlight is faint and pale in my room and with my eyes still closed I find myself reaching out to you lying next to me. As the waking world enters into my mind I know I will not find you at the end of my reach -- and yet you appear so clearly in my mind's eye. I see my hand reaching toward you slowly thru the bright darkness of my unopened eyes; feel you softly upon my fingertips as they brush so gently across your form. My eyes open and a peace settles over me as you come into my view -- finding myself caressing your back; your shoulders; your cheek -- an angel resting near me. Soundly you lie, as though safe from all harm, showing the beauty only contentment can bare thru sleeping eyes shut. The light shines thru the blinds of the window, finding its way to you alone with radiance in the soft illumination where the single ray of light which finds its way in from the outside sky surrounds you. In the small things that dance within the light I see with new day's eyes the feathered wings upon which they play -- the wings you hide from us all. The light in your hair brings new colour to my vision of gray shades which turn all the colours of a world as though painted around you alone. In you I am lost -- taken into your presence where my eyes will not look away nor my ears here any sound but your peaceful breathing. As you rouse to waking the world centers around you -- your deep eyes soft from slumber open and time stands silent and still; your beautiful gaze and the stunning soul behind them meets mine and you steal my breath away. My hand touches the empty air; the sheets of my bed; my eyes finally open and in the slightest instant of a moment you are gone -- the golden morning light turned dim and cold; colours darken; the heart beats with longing and once more -- I am awake....


"Hope is a waking dream"
-- Aristotle



....Like a voice in the wind, lulling from somewhere in the cool darkness of a moonlit evening near the sea. And like any lost sailor to a siren's call, I followed my ears and eventually found the way....



"Sensation"

The smell of you in my clothes, in my bed, in my arms
The taste of you on my tongue, on my lips, on my mind
The touch of you, soft across my fingertips, supple between my fingers, firm in your grasp
The sound of your laughter, your cries, your screams, your breath
The sight of your warm smile, the form of your body, the conviction of your eyes

I curl in your warmth when you're near
I shutter in the cold when you're away
My heart beats to the sound of yours
It grows still in the silence
I breathe when you breathe
I suffocate when you don't
Life becomes a banquet when fed from your fingers
It becomes bland when taken from my own
I see your light and i'm guided to where I want to be
I lose sight of you and I stumble blindly in the dark of where I am

How do I become the scent that intoxicates you?
How do I become the flavor that you crave?
How do I become the warmth which you cling to?
How do I become the voice by which you tingle?
How do I become the view to which your eyes soften?

Am I the heaven you dream of in your mind's eye when we're apart?
Or am I the Elysium you find comfort in while searching for a greater paradise?
Am I the irresistible feast which your lips desire?
Or am I the pleasant appetizer to another's succulent entrée?
Am I the fresh rose which you indulge in?
Or am I the sweet prelude to the garden for which you search?
Am I the passionate orchestra which takes your emotions to heights unknown?
Or am I the soothing whisper of winds which promise grander performances?
Am I the golden sunshine in which you bathe and long for none other?
Or am I the pale moonlight awash over you peacefully dreaming of mornings to come?

A soothing spark between us when we touch -- hand to hand, fingers knit and locked.
A sharp tinge of longing to the pallets -- lips just a shared breath away from meeting.
A powerful hint of anticipation in the air -- the rapture of two passions.
A soft haze of flowing shadows and light -- two hearts guiding for softened eyes.
A subtle language of desire exhaled fluently -- the translation of growing intensity.

A perfect union of all such states in their fleeting moment of life as one.

The sensation of "Us".




"Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole."
-- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

"Love is, above all else, the gift of oneself."
-- Jean Anouilh

"The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence."
-- Edward Thomas

"At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet."
-- Plato

"Would it not be wonderful to be loved by a poet?"
-- from the book "Perdita"
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