Sunday, July 15, 2007

311. Morning

"Good morning Kyra," said Papa.

"Good morning Papa," yawned Kyra, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. No matter how early she rose, Papa always seemed to be up and he always looked perfectly manicured. His white tunics were nothing but pristine, each fold easy and crisp, the cut looking tailor made.

"Have a seat and join me." With a grace that even a child could notice, Papa lifted his off-white cup of snizzle to his tanned lips, took a sip, and as effortlessly allowed the cup to float back to the table. A cool morning breeze rolled in from the ocean, palm trees bowing as servants in the wind, their broad leaves whispering approval. The ocean looked warm, inviting. The waves were gentle but not calm and the hue, forever changing, shown with a turquoise sheen rarely seen with such clear brilliance. Colors blue and green shifted in the sun as a kaleidoscope, patterns morphing to the limit of the imagination with shapes and values light and dark, rich and light, inviting and forbidden. Golden sand basked in sun and water, silent in private joy, as comfortable in solitude as a welcome mat waiting patiently for the patter of guests seeking solace and renewal. "Close your eyes and take a breath."

Kyra pulled up a chair and sat at the table, her feet not quite reaching the aged wooded deck. Closing her eyes she took a deep practiced breath, just as Papa had taught. Silently, she breathed in to a count of four, her focus on the flow of warm ocean air on the tip of her nose. Holding the breath for a second count of four, almost swirling the warmth in her chest, she gently released the exchange back into the breeze with a third count of four.

"Give me your hand and we'll do this together," said Papa. Without opening her eyes, Kyra held out her small white hand and into the leathery mitt of Papa's palm, like a baseball in a mitt, her hand disappeared in his. Together, in silence, the two breathed in the morning, heart-rates slowing, seeking and finding harmony as large drum to small drum might. His hand felt large and warm and somehow tender in strength. His breath, its rhythm and pace, felt as a rope, a belay, holding her in a safe place, a place where a touch said more than words, where a breath brought peace and a heartbeat conveyed love. Their breathing synchronized; and slowly their hearts. From a window Grand looked out and smiled. The love Zeke showed to Kyra, so consistent day in and day out, so kind and gentle and loving, as one might show a delicate flower that needed just the right amount of sun and water to flourish, that love she thought, was Zeke. He didn't try. He didn't plan. He simply was. Where love began and Zeke stopped was as difficult to separate as the point where one body of water became another. The two were simply one and the same. And so Grandma Kyra stood and watched and smiled through eyes that had never lost their wonder. She would leave Hyneria before him but not without him.

"Kyra, I love you," said Papa.

"I love you too Papa."

"Do you know where we are?" he asked, his eyes, like hers, still closed, his tone as soothing as warm honey, the grip on her hand neither too tight nor too loose.

Kyra smiled with lips closed. "Here. We are here Papa."

"And what time is it my dear child?"

"Kyra smiled again. "Now. It is now Papa."

"And when we sit here tomorrow, and look over the glorious ocean, tell me--"

Kyra cut him off. "Here and Now. Our appointment with life Papa."

Papa smiled and held her hand a little tighter as if to emphasize his approval. "And when we love someone?"

"Oh Papa, you know the only time you can love someone is Now and the only place is Here."

"Open your eyes Kyra and look at me. I want you to listen to me very closely." Papa took her other hand in his and pulled his chair up to hers. Their knees were touching. "You are a very special child and I love you very, very much."

Kyra smiled, pulled her hands from Papa's and launched herself into his arms, her whole body fitting in his chest as arms and legs wrapped around him. "Papa, I love you too."

Papa stood and twirled her around as if the two were dancing center stage with the sun and the breeze looking on at love manifesting itself in the natural order, the way it should be. Grand had seen this scene played out a hundred times and for the hundredth time she raised her right arm and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

29 comments:

Autumn Storm said...

Beautiful, from the picturesque scene that you described so thoroughly that it came alive before my eyes, through Papa's appearance and innate grace in his movements, the flow between them of love and understanding, of togetherness in the moment, of breath, of life, of now. Grandma Kyra's contemplations on Papa being love and her wonder in him and through to the words of love spoken, complete, real and unconditional, or better still, simple. So very beautiful and so full of warmth, warmth conveyed in every sentence of this chapter. The part about the mitt of Papa's palm flows out across this whole chapter, a cocoon where each is secure in the love of the other. Just keep wanting to repeat the word beautiful, you've defined it here. :-)

Trée said...

Sunshine, likewise, you define the term. Your every comment warms my soul like the sun. You give and give and give and you give so consistently, so freely, so much without wanting anything in return such that I felt that I could have been writing about you in this chapter. Seems like an easy thing to do. Yet, look at your life, my life or just look at the blogosphere, a place both of us have been for almost three years now and ask yourself what you see. I will tell you this, rarely do you see a soul as warm and bright and loving as you are. You are, my dear Sweetest, one of a kind and you know what? It is not just me saying that.

Thank you my Cotton Baby for your very, very kind and loving comments. Always, always deeply appreciated. :-)

Trée said...

Can you just see the two of them, Papa and Kyra, on that deck, holding hands, eyes closed, warm ocean breeze blowing, clear day, gorgeous blue/green ocean, pristine beach with no one else on it and only the sound of their breathing and beating of their hearts. And in that leathery mitt is hope and love and safety and peace and joy and a bond unlike what most of us have ever known. I want that bond between myself and one other person. I want that mitt. I want to smile like they smile. I want to swim in life as dolphins in the ocean, leaping for joy in the bright noon sun. I can almost smell that air now. :-)

Autumn Storm said...

No accident either that my two most favourite of the very many names I and sometimes we have conjured up for you are Poppet and Sweetest Heart, your chapter and comment here shows everyone just what a beautiful heart, mind and soul you have. What amazes me more than anything else when you say such heartwarming things is that I gave up long ago imagining that I could ever 'compete' (not that it was ever a competition) with you on the score of giving. Faraway you may be in space, but one of the closest you are to me in the stakes of who brings the most smiles into my life. I was blessed the day I met you, Poppet. You, DT, the story are enriching.

Cotton baby still makes me giggle. :-D
xo

Autumn Storm said...

I can, hence the repetitiveness of singular words, I just kept thinking how I would love to be one of them in that moment, to give and to recieve, so sure of each other, so naturally, so just what you said above covered in hope and love and safety and peace and joy and a bond. I hope we all get to feel that at least with one other person in the course of our lives, to feel as connected to someone else and to know that we are loved completely.
You have a way of doing that, wording the heart's greatest desires. The reason why we fall so for this story.

Trée said...

Sweetest, I suppose I write from a place in my heart carved from the bitter experiences of youth. More than thirty years later, the wounds inflicted on a child are still vivid and still, if I look, painful. As a child, sometimes the safest harbor is the imagination, that place that is always available, that place that adults cannot touch and sully. Maybe in those earlier years my circumstances created an overactive imagination as a survival technique. I rather doubt it, but it is an interesting theory. I do know that what I write is inside of me. I see the patterns within this story, which by the way, as you know, is not written with a purpose other than one chapter at a time and to write, at that moment, what is inside of me. So, over time, the story has shown me some interesting patterns, some ideas and concepts that recur. In a way, the story is a mirror into myself, and until I just wrote that, I had never seen it that way. I do want to be clear however. The story is fiction. Reading too much into the story is a dangerous thing. At the end of the day, it is just a story, no more, no less. Still, I only write when there is something inside of me that wants to be written--everything from the love of a grandfather for his granddaughter, to raw sexual experiences in places of ill-repute.

Again, I don't think I can say it enough times, your dedication to this story and your continued encouragement of me writing it, has been a most astounding thing for me. It is one thing to say a few nice words for a few chapters, it is entirely another to have followed this story for more than 19 months and to have commented like you have commented on every single post. That, in and of itself, is a incredible accomplishment and I am ever grateful to you. I mean this sincerely. Without you, this story is not here today. Period.

Anonymous said...

Hello...I found the setting for this chapter very spiritually supportive of the entire piece. Water - in this case, the ocean - speaks to me of deep wells of emotion...ancient in their origins....and the bearer of life both physically and psychically. When I'm near the water, my entire entity undergoes transformation...my rythms time with the tides. My body - mostly water itself - responds with a vibrant energy that is partly due to the increased ozone, I imagine. But theres something more...something primal.

I was enthralled with the breathing meditations shared between the generations. Breathe - air - Spirit - shared as the opening of a new day. When we breathe properly, we are more alive and connected, more fully NOW - as your characters so beautifully spoke of - so more fully in our own bodies, our own hearts and our own lives. And yet, the paradox is, the very air we breathe belonged to another at some time. We inhale each other, becoming one organically in mysterious ways. We exhale, and we send our own essence into the core of another...

One of the reasons why shared deep breathing while making love is so powerful.

I'm so happy to see you back and writing. I've missed your chapters, and I missed you, new friend.

Trée said...

Anon, nice to see you commenting with your beautiful wisdom. I find a comment like yours utterly intoxicating. I feel meself floating away on your words as if there was magic in the way you put them together. I feel life in your words; I feel love and wisdom and centeredness and balance, and a raw sensuality that ties it all up together in me wanting to say: more, write more, don't leave me now. :-D

I love the way you speak of us inhaling each other. I would love to hear you talk more on this topic, not because I don't know what you are saying but because you say it in a way that is fresh for me, a way that allows me to see it from a different angle, to see with new eyes so to speak.

Good to be back home. I am still exhausted from the week. I'm still in bed, still in my robe and will probably stay this way all the rest of the day. I'm just spent, in a good way.

Thank you Anon for stopping by. I will work on my breathing. Just in case, you know, I might be called upon to participate in the dance of breath and sweat and beating of hearts. ;-)

Autumn Storm said...

I read your words here and I wanted to hug you, not so much you now (I wouldn't pass up the opportunity:) but you then. On occasion you have written things in your comments or spoken about in commentaries that are more direct than what we can learn about you in your story, but only on some levels. Had you not felt the emotions that you have, had the experiences that you have had, learned what you have learned, loved, grieved, and so on, you would not be able to write so truthfully about the range of emotions and experiences that you do. We know from your story that you know what it means to hurt, to love, etc. The story is fiction, yes, the characters, the events, but the reason it is so believable is because what you deal with here, mostly, is matters of the heart, relationships with others, with self and the spark that ignites them is born from something you have known. So, yes, I(we) see it as you would have us do, not as a story that is autobiographical, but that it is your story in as much as in everything a true writer writes there is a piece of himself. Even if it is just the chosen subject. I ache for the fact that you ever had pain in your life, simply and because I hold you so dear, but pain moulds us as much as any other and so is a part of what made you the very special, caring, sensitive, imaginative person that you are, and I or anyone else who knows you here (as in life I am sure) would not wish you any different.

Every single post has been such a pleasure to read, I'm grateful for the fact that I have been able to follow the story from the beginning, to watch you develop as a writer, as a fractal artist and finding the steady hand for sketching/painting too. The story has made me smile and cry and laugh and rejoice and chew my nails and jump in fright and sit here like a goldfish in shock or amazement, it has made me guess and secondguess and theorize and remember and dream and fall in love and ache and wish and mistake to name just some and I wouldn't have missed a moment of it. Thank you for all of those experiences. I've said it before, and Eng. Lit. student I have read some fabulous authors in my time, but this story that I have loved the most.

Have a great evening, Poppet. I've been writing this drifting half off to sleep every once in a while, so wish me sweet dreams and I'll reluctantly leave these pages for a few hours at least. :-D Night, x

Trée said...

Sunshine, I'll tell you a secret, one I don't think I've shared here or in the story. Reconciliation only takes one party, not two. I discovered this like a lightning bolt to the head about seven years ago. My life took a turn for the better with that discovery. I hugged that child. I didn't need another there too. Why it took so long to learn such a lesson, I don't know, but I do know the man who showed me the way, and he will never know how he helped me, but I will be eternally grateful. One day, perhaps, the story will visit that experience. Who knows. Maybe Trev is the one. :-)

As for the rest of your comment, I hardly know what to say other than I would hug you back in an instant. My fear is, I would never want to let you go. :-)

Autumn Storm said...

You spoke of that embrace once before and it, as other things you have said and done have, confirmed what an amazing individual you are. And it's why I spoke of then and not now, though you mentioned old wounds, I also know from things you have said that you are to use your word reconciled. And now I'll just be quiet and let you get some sleep. Sweet dreams, Poppet, x

Mona said...

This chapter is like Dynamic Meditation which I am a part of these days with a lot of other ppl, learning the Art of Living.It is almost the same technique exhibited here, building up an aura and vibes that support each other, are in perfect tune with each other till they become a single rythmn.It builds up a powerful energy field & is very uplifting.

You have done a marvelous Job with this chapter, by infusion of Love so natural & pristine pure that it becomes a total bliss.In every movement, in every touch is pure bliss.& in one single moment one has lived a lifetime... here & now.
The past is dead, it exists no longer. The future is a dream not yet come. the only reality is here & now, the present, the 'this moment'.
If we learn to live in this moment & to live it fully, we become so rich, so full so blissful...blissful as love come to you in abundance, so much so that you cannot contain it. It will spring from within you and start overflowing... reaching in all directions...
It is like the discovery of treasures within yourself... the paradise within yourself.. where love becomes your very quality, yuour very character, your very being, your radiance... just as the Sun, which radiates light, not for anyone in particular, unaddressed... your love radiates too unaddressed..
Of course, first it is felt within oneself, for oneself, then it starts radiating all around then you love, not just human beings . You love birds , you love trees: you simply love... You ARE love.

Trée said...

Mona, I love the way you describe Love as a radiating force, like the sun. I too believe we radiate whatever is in us and that others, even if they don't know it, pick up on those vibes and those vibes, good or bad, change the very fabric of our interaction. I also think we naturally gravitate toward the light and avoid the darkness. Unfortunately, I've seen just the opposite happen too. Those in darkness, for whatever reason, sometimes avoid the light and seek others in the darkness too, almost as if having a friend in the darkness with them will give them comfort, will speak their language, will provide understanding. It does not occur to them that at the end of the day, they will still be in darkness and darkness does not beget light just as more cold does not beget heat.

I observed this behavior last week at our meeting. Those who were doing the worse clung to others also doing poorly and almost seemed to avoid those doing well as vampires might avoid the break of day. And I watched, all week, those that most needed the warming rays of light, do everything in their power to avoid taking that step toward enlightenment, if you want to call it that. And so, they left the meeting really no different than when they arrived and their fate is all but sealed. The question becomes not if but when and that is a very sad thing to witness when you know it doesn't have to be that way.

As always, I do so deeply appreciate your wonderfully insightful and engaged comments. I love the way you lead me to feel and think Mona. You are a gift to me. Thank you. :-)

Anonymous said...

There's something so powerful when there is complete unity between a couple. It is something I long for, as you know.

It takes knowledge of one another, and the trust born from that knowledge, to reach Unity. Imagine two people who not only know everything about each other, but who intentionally pace themselves to match the other...since each is pacing, it becomes a grace of giving rather than a sacrifice of self. From that matched point, they flow in unison...both as the giver and the receiver...the inhaling and exhaling....the lines between them, any seperation, is quickly replaced as the power of staying present with the breath overtakes them.

In surrender to the Unity, everything that I am is instantaneously released to become everything he is. And everything he is, mixed with my own essence, is given back into me. We then become ourselves and so much more.

Unity can only make us more of who we are, and love gently leads us back to ourselves.

Can you imagine what that would do? In many ways I see this more intimate that the connection of other body parts ;) although - if the heartbeats synchronize and the movements synchronize with the breathe as it is paced out, I would imagine that the release would be nothing short of pure bliss. It is then a combination of physical, emotional, and pure spirit....and when the time comes to seperate, that seperation is evem more of an illusion because of what we take away from the experience of each other.

Trée said...

Anon, that was one of the most beautiful comments I can remember receiving. I would like to say I know of what you speak, first hand but you write with such a elegance, such intensity I know that what I know is not what you know and I long to know what you know the way you know it. I'm not sure if you know this or not, but your writing paints a picture, not of what you write, but of you. I see your signature so clearly I feel as if you are sitting across the table from me. I see a strong woman. A very bright and intelligent person, one with passions strong as spring rivers, with love deep and still as pacific basins. I see a woman with a large appetite for life, to live it, to experience it, to embrace it, to swim naked in the waters of grace and joy. I see a heart filled with compassion and a heart needing the unity of an open embrace. In short, I see a magnificent woman, one I would sketch in a heartbeat. :-)

Thank you Anon. Thank you for being you. Thank you for blessing my blog with your wisdom. Much love to you my friend.

Anonymous said...

:) Do you sketch then, too??? Is there anything you don't do, Tre'e? LOL THANK YOU. May we BOTH get an opportunity to experience that one day. And love right back atcha....

Trée said...

Anon, I do sketch. If you look toward the bottom on my sidebar under "Story Labels" click on the link for sketches. I've done one of most of the characters in the story. My fave is the last one I did of Kyra in Red. :-)

Kyra in Red

Anonymous said...

wowow....I just love a guy good with his hands! ;-)

So beautiful, T....amazing! I love the way she's transformed over time....almost as if her physical expression morphed as she's told her story through you.

Trée said...

Anon, like this story (I never wrote before this), I never sketched before. So what you are seeing is simply me getting, I hope, a little better with the pencil. Thank you for those kind words. As for my hands, well, you need to experience one of my foot massages. Find a good chair and be prepared to be jellified. :-D

Good morning :-)

Anonymous said...

Good morning (can I switch to my 'name' now? LOL I'm confusing myself :-P )

Tre'e (ok...where IS that 'e' thingy I need to type your name correctly? LOL sheesh).... ((( T ))) I am seriously even more impressed. Your talent 'shows' like one who has been working at their craft for some time :) You give me hope for my own new creative outlets...

Jellified? One of my better looks! LOL ;-)

xoxox

Trée said...

Phoenix, pick whatever label you like. I like what I see under the surface. You have a energy for life that refreshingly comes through in your comments. I don't know how to explain it, but I feel a strong heartbeat behind your words.

I suppose the best way to sum up what you see on my blog is this: I just Love "the story" and the characters. All the images and sketches and paintings and chapters is a manifestation of that love. I try not to take any of it too seriously and as long as I do that, it all works out and the creativity flows, releases, spills out from my mind to my hands to the screen.

You, my dear, have been a wonderful blog find and if I could hug you to pieces right now, I would. Hugs and kisses and love my dear friend. :-)

Karen said...

This is wonderful - I love the warmth and the relationship they share. Your words ooze the love they have for one another. Thank you for this - it reminds me of the love I have for my dad.

Trée said...

Thanks Karen. Nothing quite like the love between parent and child. :-)

Anonymous said...

Ditto..in spades. I just love coming here for so many reasons. I never leave without feeling lifted, even when the characters are going through extremely heartbreaking or difficult times.

Next time you're heading out this way, give me a head's up. I'll treat you to something amber. Warm hugs and kisses back.

Trée said...

Ooooh, I think I could live on that thought for about six months. :-D

Do I get my pick of amber or will you surprise me? You know, I could use some right now. This morning I had some basal cells removed from my cheek, eighteen stitches in all, six under and twelve on top. The pain medicine is starting to wear off and a little single barrel looks better and better by the minute. Of course if I was in bed, acting like a hurt puppy and a tray with two glasses appeared and the door locked and the phone thrown out the window, well, I suppose I might just forget my little sixty minutes under the knife this morning. :-D

Thank you my dear wonderful woman for your very, very kind words. I would smile if it didn't hurt. :-D

Anonymous said...

LOL I'm kinda surprised you didn't add the nurses outfit in there, Trèe... ;) Big hugs and only small kisses then - on your forehead...I'm sure that's gotta hurt! :( hope you feel better yesterday! And when it comes to something amber, it will be your pleasure, of course. We can make a toast to all things gummi, and loves that entrall for a lifetime! :)

Trée said...

Phoenix, how could I forget the nurse's outfit? Not the new ones, but the old ones with buttons a little too tight and hair pulled up into those wonderful white headpieces. I might not even need the drink in that case. :-D

The shame of this operation is I had two gorgeous woman working on me and I couldn't see a thing--my face was completely covered except for the small section they were working on. I did feel the warmth of something pressing against my arm and you know what? Not all warmth feels the same. This feminine warmth was very nice. :-)

Oliviah said...

This chapter was heartwarming, a good one to stop for the night and as I read the comments I was so glad I read this "one more chapter" because I felt like I got to know you better in ways that, as always, make you more precious to me.

Trée said...

O, it's a honor to have you back and reading the story from where you left off. Reading back through these comments I had forgotten all that I had written. I'm feeling naked; and it feels good. :-D