Sennet

Matutinal Love

The sun rose with a golden palette, light as warm as silent, working without need, giving of itself with nary a thought for the morrow. Upon the beach a gentle breeze combed the oats, a natural bent to the west, their faded hues bobbing like corks upon the sea. Trev sat the deck, facing the ocean, back straight, nude, a landscape known to finger and eye, to lip and tongue. Em watched, soaking in the sight as leaf and petal before the pail, drinking in thoughts delicious, of dreams lived, of a future seen.

Tell me, tell me without hesitation, she asked, what are you thinking?

He smiled without opening his eyes, seeming to breath with the ocean, his chest gentle swells. I'm loving you, he said, eyes still closed, head statue still, jaw smooth and chiseled as artisan marble.

She waited for more, for an explanation to connect the word and the action, which to her mind was less than clear. Loving me? I see. Or perhaps I don't. Tell me how sitting silently, eyes closed, facing the ocean, alone, is loving me?

I can only give what I possess he said. When I woke this morning and I looked upon your still sleeping face, your cheeks smiling in dream, your bosom warm in the way of young flesh in the dawn, I asked myself, do I have what you need? And in that moment, before you greeted the day, as the sun slipped his note under our door, I knew I was lacking. But I also knew there was time. So here I am. Harvesting peace and serenity and tranquility, mining joy and compassion and love, filling my satchels with smiles and patience as I educate my ears to listen and my heart to open and my eyes to see and my lips to impart and my hands to sing. And I do this, I do this to love you, to give of the bounty, to share in life for where there are two there is separation, and where there is separation there is longing, and where longing sits, loves beckons. I heard the call, of trumpets in the matutinal sky. So here I sit, loving you.

She sat with words in her heart that her tongue could not translate.

Reviews

[Vanessa P]

A true profession of love. It's like saying "Before I declare my love to you, let me become the best man I can be so I can be worthy of your love."