Tuesday, April 13, 2010

738. with and without

With her, the moments slip by, my mind a whirl, my fingers aching to touch a smile so bright I'd gladly be blinded to stare upon her divinity, for how else to explain. Yet, when she is gone, it is as if the oxygen has been sucked from the air and breathing becomes difficult and everywhere I hear clocks ticking, of seconds falling, away; and I watch them go, flowing into minutes, into hours as one watches the river from the bank. If she is not the hand of God in my life, then there is no God and what moves is but cruelty. And the question of love, can it persist, does it live beyond the moment of emotional butterflying? And I think: I know of hell and I know the persistence of hell and if hell can persist, why not love? And I know, without the limits of logic and beyond the power of nouns, as a child knows of joy and a boy knows of a girl and the sun of the sky. So I say, let it rain and with tongues outstretched, we touch the sky and with feet unshod dance in puddles and with smiles wet of tear or rain or both, we fall into each as surely as cardinals into spruce, of red and green, of her and I.

from Trev's journal

5 comments:

Lady of the Lakes said...

Deep sigh. These latest posts tug at my heartstrings and make me realize what is missing in my life. I run to things, or is it from them. AS beautiful as these posts are, they make me realize that they are all dreams. My dreams. Your dreams. Every readers dreams. To find that person, and live life to the fullest, the way it should be lived, the way it was meant to be. There are so many things I want to say, but the words won't come. I've typed and erased so many times, if I were on paper I would have erased a hole into the page. Maybe I will be able to give this post the praise it deserves tomorrow, after I sleep a couple of hours. You truly have a gift. Love.

TIGHT HUGS

hH

Trée said...

LotL, what a wonderful compliment. I'm glad you like these recent posts, but they all seem so short of what I'm trying to portray. All I can promise is I will keep trying to explain the unexplainable. Thank you.

Autumn said...

I feel the same way reading these posts as Lotl, you write so exquisitely of fondest dreams, of the kind of love for which there is yearning in each of us, it aches across the scale to read of the kind of love you describe, for the desire and hope that exists within and the fear that it will never be ours to have and hold. I would quote your FB status of today and as I have said at least a dozen times before within these pages, to have this is to have lived most complete, to have stood at the cliff, arms raised feeling every element, all the elements simulataneously, we all know of its existence, whether we have lived it for a moment, for years, never or only in our dreams, and in what we read :-). For such moments, for such a love, would we give.. With or without, your title holds the post once read. And the part that reads If she is not the hand of God in my life. Trev and Em are blessed indeed and the true beauty of this kind of love is that those who know best how great, exceptional and constant the blessing are those within. let it rain I could fill your comments box on the loveliness of this writing, I love the philosophy, every individual aspect of your words here, the way in which they are written, the questions, the expression, the sincerity, the movement from one thought to the next, for all that is within, for what it means to Trev, for the poetry, for the fullness, for the life, for the response evoked, but as you can see, it would be as this, and the writing is such that it needs no commentary, of a very special quality.

Trée said...

My dearest Sunshine, more and more I've come to believe there is only Love in the universe. That Love is reality. And that pain is not a thing in and of itself, but simply the absence of Love, just as cold is only the absence of heat. So we are either in step with the universe, in the flow of all things natural, in Love, or we live in the shadows of that cold absence where the nights shiver such that no blanket can warm.

And you know what? I think Papa would agree. :-)

Autumn said...

:-) Nodding and noting, sounds just like something Papa would say.