"Whatcha writing?"
"Nothing."
"Really? Then I suppose you won't mind me seeing nothing."
After a short wrestling match, Trev's arms pinned under Em's knees, his note in her hands.
I need to be held in the heart of another
arms cradling my dreams
lips giving life soft and sure
I need to have my hair combed in the fingers of desire
to feel a hand in my back pocket
claiming me as their own
I need to see eyes that only see me
and whispers that only I can hear
caressing my hopes and fears
I need to be tickled and stroked
knees and legs against mine
holding me firm in authenticity
"Oh Trev, it is perfect. Almost."
"What do you mean, almost?"
"Just one more line, that's all."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"Something like this: And I need to stop thinking about myself all the time."
13 comments:
Magnificent, mesmerizing image.
'I need to be held in the heart of another' and everything that comes after that is transcendently lovely. Speaks to my heart, speaks to my needs, speaks of simplicity and comfort and perfect and love and though she's right, the words are all about him, what he wants, what he needs, none of those things mean what they do, unless it the heart, the arms, the lips, the hand, the eyes of someone's heart that is held in ours. He writes words beginning with I, but they are about the sharing. His 'I's are us all, he and she and you and I and they, each of us. Be like Yellow. I need to be held in the heart of another. That dreaded word, to me however one that's qualities are unsurpassed, simplicity. The essence of a thing, without needless additions that only deter from the sheerness. Limitless. Is the beauty of your soul. Additions, I do well, too well, but how can it be enough to simply say that this is lovely. Lovely seems inadequate. Lovely does not communicate the falling, or the edenic pleasure that comes from reading and recognizing (hearing voiced what is within), or how touching it is to hear Trev, dear Trev who was in danger of losing himself, speak this way, of needing, of needing to be held, to be claimed, to be loved.
The lovely-ness of your writing is something I shall never quite get over long enough to be able to express properly. May as well accept it. :-)
Reading that through, I'm not sure it makes sense. You've tapped, as you have such an uncanny ability to do, into the essence of the thing that you seek to portray. What seems like the broadest (most simple) of concepts, when it seems like there would not be a way to incorporate every nuance and meaning, things known like what it means to love and be loved, how the soul can ache to give and to receive, the things that we, each of us, know what are but they are learned via the heart not the mouth, and that is how you write, from your heart to the readers. After a thousand comments about words, I find myself saying that it isn't your words at all, that your words aren't words, or rather that they are more than words. It's not what they say it's the way that they speak. Of magic owls and spider webs and fields of love and three moon rises, essences in a brooch, machines with hearts, of carrying home and closing circles, Ceru's eyes as he looks at Zoe for the first time, Cait's understanding, Rog's completeness, of Von embracing holographic words, nightgowns that kiss, everything about Papa and the lesson of the shells, Em's reasons for going on the mission, snoot and companionship, disappointments forgiven for the times that they have been there far outweigh, the Book of Letters, If I don't mind it don't matter, and telling Grand the crying was because they love her, Ariel, Emily, so much more than words. The differences between us are minuscule. Trev speaks from his heart and echoes that of each of us. It's how you know to do this, how you find the lesson of the shells and holographs that read I love you Dad, no not how, not any sort of question, just a wow at your insight and expressiveness. A gift like yours is a rippling blessing.
Actually, I thought it was perfect just as it was. We all hunger like that. It doesn't mean you are selfish to want, or that you won't give back with equal generosity and understanding.
Annie, that we do. I think Em was just giving Trev a hard time and needed an excuse to tease. ;-)
Sweetest, you remind me of wonders within the story I've forgotten were there, each a memory unto itself. On one level, each chapter is like a journal entry, rich beyond the words. Thank you for reminding me and thank you for your undying support. Without you, there is no story. :-)
O the ardent needs of a human heart...heart to heart...I love the poem , its not selfish, but honest in content. We must love ourselves enough to want enough...Only when we can love ourselves will we be able to love others.
Thank you Mona. I agree completely. :-)
Powerful imagery and poignancy in this piece. I like.
Thank you Blue. :-)
Ohhhhhh I love this!!!! Yes yes, Yes!!!!
JRM, I like your enthusiasm. Now, on your knees. :-D
WONDERFUL! You have been very busy writing! I have been away from the Story FAR too long. I have a date with a Diet Pepsi, some pretzels, and the Story tonight after everyone is tucked nicely into their beds!
Can't hardly wait!!
Jen
Jen, I'll bring some popcorn and a blanket. :-D
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