At the end of a hopeless dark road
I entered the quiet place between his ancient walls. All my fears screamed on the tips of my hair but stayed behind… the memory of a time of peace embraced me with its serenity.
His hands were sculpting stone into endless jewelry.
I stood in the flowing of a timeless time and forgot the shape of my words as my eyes caressed his long hair, his skin, his eyes the color of the universe that rose up to me.
I forgot to breathe as colors faded into the only picture of heaven my story teller had told me about, a suspended place where souls without a shape recognized eachother.
I dived into his peace as if I was swimming with dolphins in the oceans of the world again.
He stretched his hand and put it around my neck. He said that it was not water that I was searching for. He said it was fire.
His fingers moved lightly on my skin and through my careless hair,
He said I had wings and that there had been a time when I didn’t fear heights and the depths that people feared had been my freedom. He said that within that I had had my peace.
I felt his heat as he put a story around my neck and told me to fly.
I walked back into that flowing, back into the dark road and my words, colors, my breath, they all returned to me and a big fire was burning lighting up the way.
In it, I heard my fears moaning in a voice I could no longer recognize.